· every evening it's always the same
Always the butterflies going wild
· every evening though it's always green
In my little lungs
I see the coming traitor who approaches her
Who monopolizes her spark
It is with him that my beautiful one will leave
Paranoia, am I stupid
To imagine his hands on her, on her body
And turns, turns the reason that abandons me
To scream the anger that invades me, that devours me
I take my rage, my hatred and its nice photo
His number and I devour them
After the slap in the face, the fist to the body,
I was cuckolded to the soul until death
Another one another bitter and dark idea comes back to haunt me
The knife is too dirty, the rope even worse
The shotgun invites death too easily
Ah yes the traitor will lay his head on my guillotine
Yes the traitor will lay his head on my guillotine
To imagine his hands on her, on her body
And turns, turns the reason which abandons me
Of howl the anger that invades me, that devours me
I take my rage, my hatred and his pretty photo
His number and I devour them

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