Pub and streets are deserted,
Silently every house is lit,
I walk through the alleys thinking,
Everything looks so festive.
At the windows of a club
A thousand children stand and watch,
A misty fine haze
Listening to the musicians' guild there.
And I wander out of the walls
Out into the substance,
Glorious shining, holy shivering!
A wreath of people forms!
Guitars high the notes sound,
and out of the eternal gray of everyday life
A Christmas song rises
It's called - rocket show
Admission: 18:30
Start: 19:30
Presented by Curt.
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