I was a Gothic shadow
having no memory of a belly,
dressed in darkness ,
in a primal forest ,inner violence
gurgling with crawling creatures,
torpid bastard of night and small fry .
I often met the man who laughted
but it was just pissy vodka in my head...
I still have the bitter taste of a champagne
at curfew time and the sticky smell
of a bush of wax puppets on a string .
all was philosophy of ashtray .
Schopenauer collapsed stone on the couch
and in the round of midnight pleasures
Led Zeppelin took us into Mary Poppins bed...
It was the perfect bliss and the orange agent
embalmed Icarius children ...
On the road to all ends a sepulchral sax called us :
\'\' Guys not be old folgies in your thirties ! \"
They all have eaten their ticket ...
I\'m just the caricature of a lucid dream
in a padded room ...
And I don\'t give a drama !
Parodic side .