SEASONS:
Seasons will change and so do we. I don’t think i will never forget, it took me long time to get over. i was sadly upset. Time has changed the way I see, I’m at peace with myself. I guess That nobody can tell me The interest of bitterness? Seasons will change and so do we. After all our days are few and i will grow up as a tree. You know i had to go through.

GOING DOWN
I’m going down, as the sun goes down. Down in the hold, as shadows unfold And I know there’s a wall between me and your skin. There’s a tear. But I keep on fighting. Standing right here in front of the abyss of all the things that I did amiss. Why do I fall? I’m lacking air Sinking right down to the bottom. I could come even closer but i know it’s now or never. I’m fighting to resist to the pressure wich is compressing my lungs Everything is going to desapear, All is over, I will expire, I look up there’s a light through the water. I can’t stand it any longer. I must go back up to the surface to the blazing days of summer.

BOY
You came into the world with a gun in your hand. You came into the world without any horizon. what’s in your dreams, boy? what’s in your dreams? You could be my son, boy, You could be my son. You fight for no reason, Sacrified in the name of what ? Because misery pushed you In the arms of this war What’s in your dreams, boy? What’s in your dreams? You could be my son boy, You could be my son.

LIFE ON A STRING
Finally june came With the sun on my face And i wonder : is it a world for dreamers ? Life on a string. Even if we are flying Like dragonflies on the wind. Life on a string. Oh that’s a fact, nothing gonna change my world. One day or the other, we all need to change the world. Life on a string. Even if we are flying like dragonflies on the wind. Life on a string.

BACKFIRED
I know a place where all my plans are backfired. A place where I go when my soul is sad and tired. This place is your arms where i like to nestle. That’s where i can sink, that’s where i can fell living. When the lights go out like at the end of the show, As I’m a stranger to myself in every place I go, As the sun set, when I’m closed to surrender, That’s where i can sink, that’s where i can fell living.

HANGING AROUND
Hanging around, hanging around… With the ghost of boredom hanging around. Waiting for the morning light hanging around. Waiting for Nothing. Will you come? when will you come? In your lightning dress, oh will you come? Cause we’ve crossed so many empty avenues Searching for something. And the moon was our only witness, As we only could trust on darkness. We’ve realized the brittleness of our Being. Living for Nothing?

WEAPONS
We don’t choose our weapons; we don’t choose where we are born. Au long des ghâts filent les eaux de Ganga. Plus tu regardes et moins tu y vois. Il y a ce murmure étrange qui perce le silence, Qui te dit “il est temps, il est temps maintenant !” Tout se mélange, l’espace et le temps Tout s’harmonise au dehors au dedans Quand le brouillard se dissipe au soleil levant Tout est identique et tout est différent. Puisque c’est comme la mer, Puisque tout ce qui avance retourne en arrière. Puisque c’est comme la mer, Puisqu’il y a autant de paradis, qu’il y a d’enfers. Au long des ghâts filent les eaux de Ganga Et dans les flots se confondent Alpha, Omega Il y a ce murmure étrange qui perce le silence Qui te dit “il est temps, il est temps maintenant !”

C’EST L’EAU
C’est l’eau, c’est l’air, c’est le feu et la terre. C’est un enfant qui s’endort en rêvant d’ailleurs. La brise sur ta joue et l’odeur de ton cou. C’est la sueur sur ton front, tes efforts dans l’action, ta volonté et tes doutes, chacun de tes pas sur la route qui font de toi un humain qui forge son destin. C’est une danse qui se perd Dans les âges et le mystère, Des mains tendues vers le ciel ou le front contre le sol. La sagesse des Alévis, L’harmonie des Bishnoï. C’est ta voix qui s’élève pour dire qu’elle n’est pas d’accord, Qui rencontrera des échos pour porter plus loin et plus fort Cette idée qui longtemps encore Te survivra après ta mort C’est le voyage et l’errance du crépuscule à l’aurore, L’espoir d’une délivrance quand ils regardent vers le nord. Qu’ils fuient vers l’Egypte ou Lampeduza, De Cayenne, Pyongyang, ou d’Angola.

1997
This old tiny house in the forest is always closed now, trapped in the dark side of my mind, forgotten by everyone but me. When i come here I can still hear the sound of your breath, i can smell your skin and feel your soul dancing here. Even in one second the all world went down, everything end. Oh time goes on! I can still hear the sound of your voice. When i turn the key and open the door, i’m back in 1997 and we’re still living here together. So many nights surrounded by The eternal pattern of the stars. This home was everything we hoped for and so much more. I remember everything: The time spent in the nature nearby. I remember the red sun falling in the evening summer sky.