Imagine that
We all met
At the point where the buildings form a cross
Hugged together
Without thinking about anything
That we are like flowers in the dark in a greenhouse
All down to the ground
All down to the ground

No one is a saint, ask WikiLeaks
Hungry people, want seconds
We've reduced ourselves to making beef
Decided by magazines
They kill us, rest in peace
We are many but there's little mix
There's no evolution if we were born this way
The majors on their knees to the playlists
They will shoot during a speech

There's no glory without sons of bitches
There's no drugs without weekends
There's no glory without sons of bitches
There's no drugs without weekends

Imagine that
We all met
At the point where the buildings form a cross
Hugged together
Without thinking about anything
That we are like flowers in the dark in a greenhouse
All down to the ground
All down to the ground
All down to the ground

Mace with the beats

CONSULTER LES PAROLES ORIGINALES