Raphaël Depression n°7/small misery

Sunday August 14, 2011 7 14 /08 /Ao C /2011 02:51

Raphaël Depression n°7/small misery

Because I like what he writes, which he releases, which he is. Its voice… Its universe…

I put those Ci. Because a choice should be made, and that this night, they speak to me a little…

I deny them with whom know it. “More than 10 years that you are in my heart… Prends oneself of you, and if that does not go… Pense of me… I will be always there… At all events.”

You know I opera hat of the teeth all the night,
And I fly to the top of the ocean, dark as fall it where rests our love,
This is my body and my blood.

Do you remember that one had a date?
Do you remember to see me forgetting?
But I you do not want of it, not… if, not, finally if… I want you a little nevertheless.

Whore what I am burst,
Whore I can fall asleep even more, to let pass the empty taxis.
Same the p' tits holes, same newspapers, but the machine turns in neutral.
7:00 of the morning on the boulevards, jvoulais just the same things as everyone.

And time is disgusting, and our love drinks the cup.
And I turn all the day, and you you do not know how to enter,
And I turn all the day, under the bridges, drowned in alcohol,
You that I knew alive like insane.

Depression n°7, cherished but the life puts to us in crumbs,
And I aque Cl of the teeth, in front of all this broken glass.
Poetry thrown by the windows, and the genius which débraguette.
Depression n°7, at least I would have left you that letters.

And I turn all the day, and you you do not know how to enter,
And I turn all the day, under the bridges, drowned in alcohol,
You that jt' knew alive like insane.

I am not Romeo, but you do not be Juliette.
Your hundred dirty rumours will make (a) in my head,
Darling, and depression n°7,
Darling, they that stops, is not cherished there.

Choupchoup, choupchoup…
Chalalalalalalalalalala, Chalala….

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It is small misery
With your gray eyes
With your green wind-breaker
Like a cat in the night
Will not cut you the veins
Will not run with the Seine

It is small misery
You foutre in the air does not go
On the line aériene
A subway ticket
It is nevertheless not Cayenne
Would not do of it a little too much to you

It is small misery
More to see you this evening
To sleep in our caravans
In the city of in bottom
Our turn is awaited
For another departure

We are made atoms
And of electricity
The heart goes and then it stopped
We are made atoms
A nap us stopped

It is small misery
That you take the head to me
Three Lord's Prayer two aves
A dépravée child
All people go to the bed
Dreams firearms in the head

It is small misery
A little low than ground
Prisoners of our keys
Our put out of order bodies
It is small misery
when you from go away well too far

it is small misery
but it is well you whom I love
do not make fun
does not take these large airs
it is the door dimensioned
that of the cemetery

We are made atoms
And of electricity
The heart goes and then it stopped
the life is well too short
so that one regrets

it is small misery
it is really not vein
with your declads
on the air line
your mouth of supporting role
it is nevertheless not the clink

it is small misery
I can lead like James dean
eyes closed under the rain
in the desert of Paris
in the desert of Paris