I always write to you
When the threat
From the back of the yard
Climbs and chills me

Look over there
At the tip of my finger
If nothing moves
The sky turns red

Did I tell you
The story of this man?
Who wanted everything
Women, opium

Moral of the story
He died bedridden
Everything passes, everything breaks
The joint, the ass tires

I tell you again
That winter is dead
Lengthen your braids
Hide your butt

When lovers
Gather by the shovel
All the dead leaves
Laugh among themselves

And there's a chance that nothing moves
There's a chance that nothing moves
There's a chance that nothing moves
There's a chance that nothing moves

Where is this shadow going?
To get lost far away
Surely many
Won't see anything

My little fire
I kiss you on the eyes
I leave the envelope
I love you more than a little

And there's a chance that nothing moves
There's a chance that nothing moves
There's a chance that nothing moves
There's a chance that nothing moves
There's a chance that nothing moves
There's a chance that nothing moves

There's a chance that nothing moves
Chances that nothing moves
Chances that nothing moves
Chances that nothing moves
There's a chance that nothing moves
That nothing moves

CONSULTER LES PAROLES ORIGINALES