Before us the year 2000, a few hours separate us.
What order is emerging, what relationship of power?
Before us the year 2000. Who could have predicted
Qu 'only one thread remained hanging on the story?
The magnetic fields of my unreason.
The voices that dictate to me the cries of alarm,
The words of love,
Which haunt me, which surround me, which haunt me,
Which surround me.
Before us the year 2000 and the world in fury,
The great world order and the United Nations.
No counter-power to the dollars passing by.
And then in the corridors the bankers who slip by.
Behind us 2000 years and light years,
Some bloody tyrants, some handsome soldiers.
The magnetic fields of my unreason.
The voices that dictate to me the cries of alarm,
The words of love,
Which haunt me, which surround me, which haunt me,
Which surround me.
Before us the year 2000 and the field of the possible.
We must revisit starting from the sensitive.
To the artists it falls to things to invent
And take some dreams for reality.
The magnetic fields of my unreason.
The voices that dictate to me the cries of alarm,
The words of love,
Which haunt me, which surround me, which haunt,
Who surround me.

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