Let's leave that to the tides of September and see after the fact
Let's see what remains
The trace of proud years, the mornings that stretch
In the bright apartment the light from outside
The descent into the crowd, waking up from the city
The head held high, the look smiling for once
The laughter of tobacconist in front of our radiant faces
The return, the staircase, the kitchen and the bedroom
Then the desire to leave and the nights, detached
The scuttling rules and the breath is too heavy
Then the fear of knowing that we are responsible
For the staleness of the place, your face a little pale
The days that fall asleep and then the lack of gasoline
To dare to overcome the betrayals of yesterday
Let's leave it to the tides of September and see after the fact
Let's see what what's left
And let's see after the fact
Let's see what's left

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