Fifteen years ago

Bloody Sunday on ninety one
My smoking friend
White shoes and blue jean,
You broke your pipe

You, the King of the primary noises,
Over the rainbow, joined the heaven,
Paradise of the artists, blacks
And whites forever United.

When i’m listening to
Your musical paintings,
Describing deep feelings,
Makes me feel existing.

Pygmalion of the Sound,
Like the bird colibri,
Flying from tree to tree,
Make my days all around.

Gainsbourg or Gainsbarre,
I don ‘t care, pour toujours,
You were the lord of the words,
To serve love and poésie.

Ti ta titata tatitatita…


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