I walked into the street To see myself looking back at me So many eyes It's in the way I walk Just wanna be touched in the right way Like everybody else
De tes amants bien revenus Dans tes beaux habits neufs Tu devrais bien quand meme Voir l'entree ou alors Tu n'a sans doute rien compris Meme si t
Do you recognize me Here on this sleeper train And do you feel the pain Growing into the night, Mary And I can feel the taste Of your third birthday cake
Anyway, I can try Anything it's the same circle That leads to nowhere and I'm tired now. Anyway, I've lost my face, My dignity, my look, Everything
See the wind, there will not be any more of winter if our fronts I believe it is to [tombier]. In cities, of sales get organized from mountains of pullovers
When I'm asleep in Cascade Street When I'm asleep in Cascade Street I don't, I don't see anything When I'm asleep in Cascade Street When I'm asleep in
I know you know we?re all falling into a deep oblivion I know you know we?re all falling into a neverending mess So we have to take care, take care,
Another day to live Another way to go Nobody's in this room Nobody's here for now Wake up early I know it's too late To late for the parade Look at
When I'm asleep in Cascade Street I don't see anything When I'm asleep in Cascade Street I hear nothing In the cascade you washed me In the cascade you
Tu t?en vas a la derive Sur la riviere du souvenir Et moi, courant sur la rive, Je te crie de revenir Mais, lentement, tu t?eloignes Et dans ta course
Digue, ding don, don, ce sont les filles des forges Des forges de Paimpont, digue ding dondaine Des forges de Paimpont, dingue ding dondon Digue, ding
(Yann Tiersen - chant : Claire Pichet) Windows, doors, walls and carpets, chairs, tables and flowers, bread, wine, butter and jam, fries, meat, beans
It's a God awful small affair To the girl with the mousey hair, But her mummy is yelling, "No!" And her daddy has told her to go, But her friend is no
Un apres-midi la, dans la rue du jourdain, on peut dire qu'on etait bien, assis a la terrasse du cafe d'en face on voyait notre appartement. Je ne sais
Vois le vent, il n'y aura plus d'hiver si nos fronts je crois c'est tombier. Dans les villes, de ventes s'organisent des montagnes de pulls. Dans les
La mer ca n's'invente pas et nous on creve a rester la et le funambule beau qu'il est marchant sur son fil charles il disait l'albatros il en est mort
De tes amants bien revenus Dans tes beaux habits neufs Tu devrais bien quand meme Voir l'entree ou alors Tu n'a sans doute rien compris Meme si t'a quand
