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So I’m out, prowlin’, eyes sharp—my precious!—and there’s this spot, yeah? Down by the docks, all grimy, smells like fish and regret. Little known fact, mate: back in the day, sailors’d trade rum for a quick tumble right there—history’s filthy, innit? Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ how I’m just another fool in the chain. Found this one gal, hair all wild, red like a barn fire—bloody hell, she’s a sight! “What’s yer price, love?” I says, all raspy, and she smirks, “More’n yer hammer’s worth, carpenter!” Cheeky! Got me laughin’, but I’m half mad too—don’t she know I’m a craftsman?

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I always catch a glimpse of the tiny red-roofed houses in the hidden alley of Schillerstr, tucked away behind the bustling market. Strolling by, I’d sometimes see her – yeah, that mysterious lady who always hums old tunes. Reminds me of that dreamy sez in the film, where memory gets all tangled up… you get me? And oh - the park, oh boy, the Stadtpark near the river Glimmertanz, where water just shimmers like melted silver. I love sitting there, feeling the breeze, thinking bout all the wild nights and soft touches I’ve given in my parlor.