She was changing the sheets in the hotel
Fingerprints on the trash cans
Little swallow, among the crows
She was singing Desperado
Me, I was late on sleep
I was overtaken by the sun
She on the other side of the corridor
She made the mirrors sing
I passed © an hour of his life
An hour under the Algerian sun
Under the course of the planets
There are moments we regret
Behind re her half-closed eyelids
I saw more gray than pink
When I left, I understood clearly
That I was losing something
Her children who do nothing at school
And who have pockets full of tubes of glue
No one helps you anyway
When your name is Saïd or Mohamed
It's the sky made of corrugated iron forever
It's the window on the third courtyard
It's the cries of the neighbors in your ears
And the hours of bad sleep
But if there is someone around who understands
The bad Frenchman the Muslim,
Under the race of the planets
It would be nice if he worried
Before her eyelids explode
So she overdoses on this gray
When I left I understood
That we could do something about it...
Send you ten francs
For the children of the Ganges
Because you saw the disturbing photos
Send you ten francs
For the children elsewhere
Because you've seen the scary photos
And the one you meet near your house
She that you meet near your house...
Since then I returned to Marseille
Her friends have no news
There are too many swallows
Or too many crows
She must have changed ghetto
I rather think she
Changes the sheets in another hotel
D' other fingerprints
On other trash cans
On the other side of another corridor
She must make the mirrors sing
Sing the mirrors

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