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Summer of '67 at the Baltic Sea
sleeping in a big canvas tent getting drunk all through a fortnight. And the Freie Deutsche Jugend all expected us to admire the work of their fathers at the drab fish-food plant outside Rostock and a thoroughly organized social event. The slick guy with the tie next to me got a bit tired as hours passed by without his detecting any interest whatsoever for the future of the peace-loving peoples republic. Later on; one sculpture park outside Karl Marx-stadt where Joe Stalins spirit still was apparent as gigantic columns depicting steel-muscled workers soared to the sky. The wall? - Never saw it, except on a Floyd video many years later. All through that beer-dazed trip the tune I heard as the ferry reached the German shore stayed on my mind; See Emily Play. Joe Stalin and Syd Barrett never got acquainted.
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