It's raining
It's raining on the ashes
It's raining
It's raining on the ashes
Of Notre-Dame
It's raining
It's raining on the ashes
Of Notre-Dame
It's raining
On those who watch
The church in flames

It's raining on Notre-Dame
It's raining on your drama
On the Île Saint-Louis, through my window
I light a joint, or two, maybe
The smell of the smoke
Mixes with that of the ashtray
The big one, in front of me
On the island, on the island of the city

It's raining
It's raining on the ashes
Of Notre-Dame
It's raining
On those who watch
The church in flames

Should we
Should we believe their tears
Are they falling
Are they falling under the charm
Of the fire?

Usually, nothing affects me
But it's different this morning
I think then of all these priests
Who, at this moment, cease to be

Who lit the fuse?
Who made the wooden, leaden
Arrow fall
Through the nave?
Where do the gargoyles fall
In bas-relief?

Where is
Where is Quasimodo?
Did he leave by helicopter?
Where is
Where is Quasimodo?
Did he leave by the Seine
With a tour boat?

He ran away
Before everything went up in smoke
He declared his flame
A flame of eight hundred degrees

It's raining
It's raining on the ashes
For lack of bells to ring
It's raining
It's raining on the ashes
Of unexpected reunions
It's raining
It's raining on the ashes
It's raining on Notre-Dame
It's raining
It's raining on the ashes
Some ashes to pick up

CONSULTER LES PAROLES ORIGINALES