On the beach crowds, i was an eager eyes.
At the crossroads and saw in the distance.
At the special occassion behind the red camera, we talked.
Again, on the street.
With a smile and a bisous.
The fingers and the eyes were witnesses.
The night and the text,
I came over.
A cup of hot camomile tea, des rires, the blue black ordinateur and Pink Floyd.
Sat down face to face with a guitar,
Wearing the same clothes patterns, red and dark green.
It was good.
Face full of beard,
A very friendly smile.
It was great, year of my happiness.
All has never happened again..
By this time, we're just a virtual bisous.