Lemay Lynda
Drôle De Mine
You have a headache
The evenings when you do it to me
When I don't want you to stop
You sulk at me and stay silent
When I'm at the end of my nerves
You roll around on the table
Until you fall to the ground
And remain untraceable
br/>And yet, there are evenings
When you mold yourself to my fingers
Sometimes I can hardly believe
The words you send me
You pretend it's nothing
But your blood is boiling
You take my hand
Then you dance like crazy
I take you to my mouth
Gently nibbles you
And it's me who puts you to bed
After long hours
You've got a headache
And this evening I'm paying for it
You don't want to party
You don't want to make peace
I didn't want to wait
After your good mood
It's that you have just undertaken
It's a bad quarter of an hour
It's not my fault that sometimes
It's in the middle of a restaurant
That I want of you
In front of other customers
You can count yourself lucky
I'm just a little bohemian
Perhaps you won't live to be old
But you know that I love you
Chorus:
There are some worse than you
Those who prostitute themselves
Under any fingers
On any which street
By talking nonsense
For money matters
It seems that we despise them
Every time we take them
Should although you know
When you feel undermined
Those who drool and spit
You have nothing to envy of them
I know quite a few of them
/>Who see themselves condemned
Immersed in a newspaper
to do crosswords
You have lead in your head
And this evening you you break it
When I want to play the poet
You turn around and step aside
But you will do what you want
I will have you wear and tear
Don't say you're too old
For another adventure
It's not my fault if you dream
Of not being ephemeral mother
It annoys me too
To end up in dust
I think we all come into this world
To brood
br/>To each their own seconds
At the bottom of the sharpener
Chorus
There are many bigger ones
And more colorful ones
Who seem insignificant
When you start talking
It's only you who gives me
Shivers down my spine
It's only you who gives me you're surprised
With your funny look
You're in trouble
And tonight it's weird
You look bad
And your face is drawn
Your head is sinking
But it's true that it's late
If you want us to stop
I'm not even going to sharpen you