The road is written
A plane is flying in the sky
I have seen the wild geese
Escaping to an other continent
Where the sun will be present
I'd like to
leave at the same
time I feel the cold on my back
My skin has become white
I often think of you
I can't do as this bird
Find my colors again
The road is written in my
hand I will leave
tomorrow I'd like to have wings
I'll go there where you will be
The next cloud will come
To bring me to your country
The road is written in my hand
I will leave tomorrow
I have to wait for the moment
I look at every day
The calendar delayes the time
I won't miss our date
"Copyright" 2003
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