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He's gone on a trip
The home of all times in luggage
Because he's a big tarmac walker
Of an unusual kind
C He is an admirable tourist
Certainly curious but always very affable
He is very well equipped
Because with him, everything is disposable
He often leaves
He also gets lost
In his life, not very Zanzibar, with no desire for Patagonia
Towards these plains, these blond people ©deserts, these reefs
These seas, these estuaries, these glaciers
Be careful, he is a tourist
Who has seen them, with his own eyes, seen the landscapes
Astonishing, because he has never packed his luggage
When the rain is unleashed
He, under the sun, crosses a plain
Calm wild expanse
Because he often sees no one there
He travels
Solo
In his life, not very Zanzibar, without desire of Patagonia
Towards these plains, these blond deserts, these reefs
These seas, these estuaries, these glaciers
Forever, he is a tourist
Who has seen it
Seen landscapes with his eyes
Astonishing
Because he never packed his bags
But in his heart
br/>Boredom awaits him to set up his home there
To interfere with his road maps
Clear his back
If he gets lost, it's is true
That he finds himself there too
In his life, not very Zanzibar, without desire for Patagonia