Marie Möör and The Other Colors
April 6, 2018
Who Am I?
Day by day it’s the same old story,
all the day I am longing for the night.
I check the bar, buying tickets for a bingo or a loto,
joking with the Flanker’s guys,
sure we are flankers.
Then I get down out of my room,
like an emeralde shiny wolfe smelling amber,
walking down the satanics lanes,
look… I just found a ace of spades,
is that a presage? Oh what the fuck…
Ace of spades for a heart black queen.
Hey! Somebody talk to me or I am blubbering.
And I still haven’t find my spot, my place,
who I am…
Life is burning like a catchy game.
Use your feather like a kalach.
How to behaved… without having.
How to stand up without standing…
I like to ear the heel of my boots on the wet rainy street.
Avenue des Gobelins… I don’t expect for anything.
I say hello to Gino, the pizzaïolo.
He says to me it is not easy to meet a girl in this
big heady city beheaded…
Paris heady city beheaded.
Days are going away, one by one,
joy is standing, (dancing, beating,
breathing singing) for every one.
And i still haven’t find my spot, my place,
my seat… my hole.
Who am i? Where are you?
Paris, Paris you make me dizzy,
Paris interstellar city.
Every body put your bright shoes,
and let’s music amazed your ears.
Who am I?
Where are you?
Are you ready to the rendez-vous?
Texte et traduction par Marie Möör
©Marie Möör and The Other Colors