suivant du carnet de voyage
Fake dollar bills, écrit à l'été 07,
au sud des Us of A.
on the same highway again
With the same ghost and the same blind curves
Same towels, same soaps in the same cheap motel rooms
The road will never be long enough
The car fast enough
The water of the shower cold enough to make me forget
How lonely I am.
the rooms are filled with the same anonymous sadness
Loneliness never said out loud
Same soap, same sunsets in the same frame
Only you can make the room non vacant
The smell of love in the sheets
After we had left
As the ghost of a dream I better forget
The unmade bed and the lost bra
That haunted rooms and gave nice sleeps
Are for others now that you are nowhere
Now that I am alone.
way you made me laugh
And how much the pain stays.