he will come, neither with a knife in his hand nor with roar. he will come like someone who goes by by chance and asks the time. he will come and raise his hat. shortly after eleven o’clock, morning without special expectations. little light streaming into my room on the fourth floor. and he will come, he will read the current and the gas. he will close the door politely like someone who isn’t that versed in life.
Aren’t these also the lyrics from Jail and Pray?