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Attaque 77 Miscellaneous Street never happen born.
He was a stray with the sun on his back
Faithful to his destiny and his opinion
Without having a time to take a nap
And to give him everything at dawn
He was our dog and it was the tenderness
That we need more and more every day
It was a metaphor for adventure
That cannot be found in the dictionary.
It was our dog for that what we love
We consider our property
And it belonged to the children and old Pablo
Whom he rescued from his loneliness.
He was a stray and he was the character,
of the open door in any home
He was in our neighborhood like the landscape
The night watchman, the priest and all the others
He was the street artist of beautiful things
And he left with them when he left
He drank all the stars at once
He fell asleep and never woke up.
He left us the space as a testament
Full of nostalgia , full of emotion
His memory wanders through my feelings
To pour them out in this song.