The sailors
See me getting old
I see getting old
The sailors
We're playing the game
Idiots
Where the motionless
Is the oldest
In my job
Even in summer
Has to travel
Eyes closed ©s
It's not nothing to be a lock keeper
The bargemen
Know my face
They're kidding me
And they're wrong
Half wizard
Half drunk
I cast a spell
On everything that sings
In my heart tier
It's autumn
Let's pick the apples
And the drowned
It's not nothing to be clusier
In his basket
A suspicious child
To see the fly
Who is on his nose
Mom purrs
Time sighs
The cabbage is sweating
The fire grumbles
In my job
It's in winter
Let us think of the father
Who is drowned
It's not nothing to be a lock keeper
Towards spring
The sailors
Make me manners
Of their barge
I would like their game
Without this war
Which has damaged me a little
Too damaged
In my job
It's spring
That we take the time
To drown