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The city
Its boulevards
Its windows
Lights its lights in the evening
It's beautiful
It shines
But from a little closer ¨s
The artifice
Seems to conceal
Many stories
Behind the scenes
Come by my house
Certain evenings
Lurches and you will see
Circulating in the corridors
Real inspectors
Of holiness
They are the gravediggers
Of your freedom
This one is worried
Another ruminates
This one lets off steam
Comes out of his depression
Exalted, alas
Against who exceeds
By inattention in
Cohabitation
The city remains a little vague
On the ground floor
On the upper floors
Measurement
Its rigidity
No more tastes
The colors
Take
Your legs at your neck
If you pass
After the hour
The city
Its gardens
Its museums
Postpone until tomorrow
It's tricky
To go to heaven
Coû what it costs
Clogs your ears
But on the way
Others have them
Indiscreet
Whistling snakes
On our heads
Today and there
Getting ready
A vendetta in
Slippers and bathrobe
Chorus