Ankomme Freitag, den 13. [English translation]

The letter slot rattles, it's quater past seven.

Where for the world are my slippers?

Neither underneath the pillow nor in the wastebin,

And yet I could've sworn, yesterday they were exactly there!

Well, then not, I walk barefooted then.

My glasses are also missing, they are surley in the drain

of the bath tub, like always, well -, I can see well enough without

And the glasses will last longer when I use them less.

Like that I pad continuously through the corridor to the letter slot,

Fall over my dachshund Justus onto a telegram.

I read it while rising with absent-minded expression:

"Arrive Friday, the 13th, at two o'clock, Christine.

Arrive Friday, the 13th, at two o'clock, Christine."

La,la,la,la....

Still six and a half hours, now it's half past seven.

Above all keep your hair on, and with system and deliberation.

First of all dressing, - stop, beforehand washing!

At that time I find my slippers in the pockets of my pyjama.

The telephone rings: No, I swear, wrong number,

I am certainly not Alfons Yondrascheck, - still four and a half hours.

Carrying the trash out, going to the store,

Putting a new cover on the pillow and sewing a button to the pants.

Changing the table cloth,- it's completley torn,

Probably that criminal dachshund has it on its conscience,

and probably he's to blame for that curtain there aswell!

"Arrive Friday, the 13th, at two o'clock, Christine.

Arrive Friday, the 13th, at two o'clock, Christine."

La,la,...

To tidy there's no time anymore, I tuck it all into the chest,

washing-up, ash tray, shirts, there, now repose.

Stop, it occurs to me I promised her something:

The day she comes back I wanted to cook for her!

Even though I can't cook at all! All the same I want to try for her!

I have no clue about baking either and I will still bake a cake.

A glance in the fridge: inside only my alarm clock.

Once again down to the store and to the bakery.

Into the elevator and pressing ground floor.

The elevator gets stuck, the dachshund goes crazy.

After 45 minutes I'm freed from the car.

"Arrive Friday, the 13th, at two o'clock, Christine.

Arrive Friday, the 13th, at two o'clock, Christine."

La,la ...

Lashing the dachshund in front of the store, but I am allowed inside,

I buy anything to eat and three bottles of wine,

Adding a duck, - 'cause I'm cooking duck with oranges, -

For the cake a baking mould, a handful of raisins.

"Can it be more for 20 Pfenning? One piece or sliced?"

"I don't care, I forgot the money, could you please chalk it up?

I stuff it all into the bag. "Carful, don't grab it by the handholds, it will rip." Well, I'll be careful already!

Ruckus in front of the door, the dachshund broke loose

And just for the devilment has bitten a police officer.

My bag bursts and the avalanche rolls...

"Arrive Friday, the 13th, at two o'clock, Christine.

Arrive Friday, the 13th, at two o'clock, Christine."

La,la, ...

"You are the owner of this dachshund? Your documents please!"

This is particularly embarrassing because I always loose papers.

I curse, I cry, I bargain and laugh.

"Have heard it before, you'll have to come to the station with me!

At this time the duck should already be roasting since ten minutes ,

And maybe this time the cake would have come off for a change,

And I sit in the cop shop, today of all days.

And I had been so exorbitantly excited for the reunion!

Maybe she's already there and now nobody opens the door?

Now it's 20 past four, now everything's gone down the drain!

I glance at a calander. Well I'll be damned.

Today is only the 12th and Thursday.

• Artist:Reinhard Mey