Narcotics, romance and scenes noir
Conter Fabric of italian shoes
The night smile on us again
Leaving the bars as the people hue
We dare the conformists in their rues
As they dared to mock us in the ground
As the wind beared to lift us array
Pennies in my pocket, filled with the mundane
Holes in my lungs, filled with rhymes
Leftover of a Karantita
For a mendiant african lolita
Dark poems and lamentations
On a raped ballerina
Hidden kisses are a public duty
Who dares to kiss the filthy citizenry ?
They drunk their mind willingly
They musn’t lock their spirit within
The doors of La Grande Poste now speak to me
In the garden of the books beneath the sea
Where the pedestrians come and go
Novels on Michaelangelo
In the spit of their damnation
We’ll be spiting illumination
We’ll gossip about reincarnation
And mock the town bursting in degradation
I’ll be known only for a while
Encircled by books yes I’ll be aroused
But if I’m known by the other guys
I’ll be encircled in a cell mostly accursed
On a steady canopy my black dalhia lies
With the lies that never unfold
And the men in the streets now abhor
The romance with the blade of grass
We as numidians we adapt
En route to carve another sin
Violon of the hushed violences
I was bruised by a police guard
One thousand and one students behind
I was decorating the Frontline
One thousand and one wounds entwined
I prayed to never ever leave the front
Sacred hovel of lies and scorns
What a dull idea to be born in Icosium
Sacred brothel of heathens and jews
Buy a perfume or pick a plume
Crow feather of the seventh rue
Let’s rewrite the «Ça ira»
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