The Fall (la chute/l'automne)

Soaked and wounded

Stranded ashore

My head overflowing

And my pockets full of gold

I’m looking at tipsy dogs

And barking whores

Dancing on indecent boats

And I think to myself…

I am a son of a beam

Burning what’s left of the dream

Try to put me off

Fuck you!

Babe wake me up

I’d love to

You can turn me down

(Je vais pas traîner sur les genoux)

But the fall is sweet

And among the dead leaves

In the mist of the quiet dawn

I gently drown

Down down down

To the next season