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il n'y avait jamais un bruit près du bois mais d'un
juste en tant que mes doigts sur ces clefs
ils peuvent parler de l'amour dans une petite maison
maintenant tandis que mes lèvres vivent
pourquoi faites-vous toujours stand tremblant là
dans sa tente gardée
pour moi étais un conseiller décharné et grave
ce que je souhaite remarquer
parmi la fumée et le brouillard d'un après-midi de décembre
l'enfant qui a jeté la feuille après feuille
il est venu me prendre par la main
désolé et seul

 



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