Anggun
Miscellaneous
The Line of Senses
Line of luck
Birth, emergency, insolence sometimes, when the necklaces rustle
Line of life
Polite, grown up , often blushes, like the eyes of secrets
Heart line
One hour, two hours, a thousand years of heat, on my exposed body
Angel's pause
Aux folds of your phalanges
I engrave the line of me, under your fingers, just
To see, for everything, for nothing
I learn by heart
The regulations of your heart
To believe, so little, so well
Your voice, your hand
To the lines that melt
On a single distance
The line of the senses
Line of travel
Wild, fickle, sweet image, riding on your thumb
Line of pleasure
To treat yourself, sigh, private spell, deprived of going out
Word of a man
At the bounce of your palm
I engrave the line of myself, under your fingers, just
To see, for everything, for nothing
I learn by heart
The regulation of your heart
To believe, so little, so well
Your voice, your hand
To the lines that are unleashed
On me, for everything, for nothing
I learn by heart
The regulation of your heart
To believe, so little, so well
Your voice, your hand
To the lines that merge
In a single evidence
The line of the senses

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