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The handcuffs, the notes, the typing machine,
Your name, first name, birth, nationality.
Empty pockets, then laces, belt, removed.
Fireworks, that's it armistice, the country is celebrating.
For me, the celebration is in police custody.
9 a.m. to 11 a.m., Speak! Your name is on the pile.
I took 6 steps into the hell of galleys, bad luck.
The fingerprints, the complaints, and this court,
My family and my loved ones in main support.
Pin-Pon-Pin-Pon, the cops are having fun, rolling away.
Okay, my lawyer is clear, but the judge perseveres,
It's eight o'clock, my number 49203.
I enter my cell, D128, the door slams, my heart beats.
My cousin 49204 talks to me about dates, watches me,
Only, sun, business and rates .
The trouble is in my head! And the guard is watching for you.
Chorus:
My body is locked up, only my soul can sail.
Bars, door blocked, my life is blocked.
An eye in the carnation, I hear the sound of the keys.
The days repeat themselves, and the guard is gutting you.
My body is locked up, only my soul can sail.
Bars, door blocked, my life is blocked.
From behind the eyelet, I dream of escaping.
The trouble is in my head, and the guard is watching for you.
First night, rotten mattress, bunk beds ,
Broken tiles, rats pass under my feet.
When I wake up, I have a rope around my neck, in this whipping cage.
In the courtyard, the crows, the seagulls make heads.
All their