To my pretensions, givers of lessons
That elsewhere is always more beautiful than we think
To my lucky star, which as well as it could
Has always granted me a last chance
To all my mistakes and middle fingers
Which I acknowledge lack elegance
The past is right where it should be
And appearances, doomed to disappear
With all my condolences
To my illusions, these counterfeits
To which we always give too much importance
To my parentheses, spun in English
To come back from holiday romances
To sins of pride, to mourn them
And for the others, a minute of silence
Yesterday has indeed fallen into oblivion
Barely if there are some flowers left to throw
With all my condolences
To my paradises, lost or cursed
There, I have nothing to say in my defense
To all my abuses, its dead ends
Which can still wait for repentance
To the mountains and wonders that one day we pay
And we know it in advance
The past undoubtedly has a reason to be
No, it's not tomorrow that it will be reborn
With all my condolences
To my bachelor life, to times far too long
Of so-called pleasures and enjoyment
For this single present that sweeps away the past
And above all, which has no equivalence
To this full sun, without any equals
Who resembles it, if not the obvious
The past is right where it should be
It can even disappear with a stroke, a cross
With all my condolences
Without remorse
Without regrets
Without remorse
Without regrets
Never

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