To tighten illusionDans this alluvium Which was the cradle
of our impressions. All these dreams while we walk Enlacés
vermilions, crimsons, oranges, hot colors of the autumn.
Last days has to dream. Lost among the angels, Like two
children, Forgetting That tomorrow always rises! And how
the Toujours dreams are completed! Even rocked by the dawn
Even escaped prisoners Always the same fate Which
solidifies humanity! That of the disillusioned hearts.
Tender illusion In this alluvia While we pass Concerning
almost the horizon. Lost in the fire of our Enfant passion
we dreamed a world better Lavé of very frayeurdéserté by
horreurEnvoutant perfume of found innocence, Ennivrant of
confidence freely given. We hoped that ailleursLes things
would be better And that the night would shelter neither
tear any more Nor charms invasion. Lost in this illusion
We dreamed, Enfant A the softness of charming prince A the
beauty Of the flowers We dreamed grayed by this other time
Far from the tears of the lovers Far from the fury and of
the noise Without knowing that one day very finished
Without knowing that already all is finished Même when all
does not make Que start, This night, can be, demainParce
that one day which is born is only the death of preceding
Like a tear without end.