Comme la baleine Comme le chat persan Le passe avec ses "Jamais plus" poignants L'avenir avec son Flot deconcertant Je pose les armes Et je choisis maintenant Comme l'antilope
Comme la baleine Comme le chat persan Le passe avec ses "jamais plus" poignants L'avenir avec son flot deconcertant Je pose les armes et je choisis maintenant Comme l'antilope
Vertimas: Carla Bruni. Antilopė.
present Comme la baleine Comme le chat persan Le passe avec ses "jamais plus" poignants L'avenir avec son flot deconcertant Je pose les armes et je choisis maintenant Comme l'antilope
She's got everything On her mind He'll take anything He can find Small horizons Fill her life Got his eyes on Her in the sky Ultrasound Going down Underground
Suede, suede, suede Suede, you always felt like suede There are days I feel your twin Peekaboo hiding underneath your skin Jets are revving yes revving
Why don't you go photograph everything that ever passed in time? Indigenous traces, tribal chiefs, vanishing hereditary lines Poets gone wild on the muse
Rye, Rye, Rocco Marco Esquandolas Been you to have any spike, man? Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run Run,
Well, my, half bread, might be, warm a little to low You're too slow, what the fuck do you think that you know? I do so and every rhyme that I spit is
High on diesel and gasoline Psycho for drum machine Shaking their bits to the hits Drag acts, drug acts, suicides In your dad's suits you hide Staining
She can walk out anytime, anytime she wants to walk out, that's fine She can walk out anytime, anytime she feels that life has passed her by And when
Filmstar, propping up the bar, driving in a car, it looks so easy Filmstar, propping up the bar, driving in a car tonight Filmstar, giving it class, living
She, walking like a killer She, another night another pillow Nowhere places, nowhere faces, no one wants to see No education, it's the arse of the nation
And maybe we're just kids who've grown And maybe not And maybe when we're on our own But we don't have much But oh, we are young and not tired of it
She's star, starcrazy Electric shock bog brush hair Flat on her back in the 80s In the 90s going nowhere Star, starcrazy Got a kicking transistor inside
Well, maybe, maybe, it's the clothes we wear The tasteless bracelets and the dye in our hair Maybe it's our kookiness Or maybe, maybe, it's our nowhere
