L'endomètre rebelle [English translation]
L'endomètre rebelle [English translation]
I always hear them calling out to me
The shouts of the rebel endometrium
Just like in the season of love
In the times of before
Before the great detours
It was the time of before
I always hear them calling out to me
The shouts of the rebel angel
Slaughtering the ceremonials of our loves
Of our prosperous loves
Oh, you! My poor love
Who knows if it was wrong
To announce its death
In the middle of the night
Right in the middle of the night
Come on, shout louder
Your shouts will be the death of me
Just like a precise move
A move way too precise
I always hear them calling out to me
The shouts of the rebel endometrium
Just like in the season of love
In the times of the turtledoves
It was the time of before
The surroundings
It was the time of before
Oh, you! My poor love
I know that memories
Never stop the sights
That we only need to fall
To become a bullet
Speeding straight forwards
Always forwards
Without looking behind
Without fearing the void
Who knows if it was wrong
To announce its death
In the middle of the night
Right in the middle of the night
Come on, shout louder
Your shouts will be the death of me
Just like a precise move
A move way too precise
Who knows if it was wrong
To announce its death
In the middle of the night
Right in the middle of the night
Come on, shout louder
Your shouts will be the death of me
Just like a precise move
A move way too precise
- Artist:Pierre Lapointe
- Album:La forêt des mal-aimés