" There
is no whisky in this town,
no pub, no club to sit me dowm. "
Useless prayers of a bewildered crowd,
down by the Gange, I watch them drown.
I'm buried in Benares,
waiting for the Monsoon.
I told you once, but I can tell you twice :
for a glass full of Red-eye, I could sell my hide.
I won't go to Benares,
even if the sun shines.
Remember,
there is tricks,
tricks to fill up a life,
like empty words mixed with a bottle of wine,
and a girl, a girl just like you.
Entangled in a tune,
my words are sucked up into their shells.
The sound of broken glass
reminds me their uselessness.
Enslaved souls in their funeral piles,
down by the shore, I hear them cry.
I can't stay in Benares
cause I don't have a dream
to realize
to realize
Remember,
there is tricks
to fill up a whole long life,
like empty words mixed with a handfull of rice,
and a girl, a girl
just like you.
Oh give me a girl
just like you,
A simple girl
all dressed like you,
and eyes of blue.
I call your name,
there is no telephone.
I scream myself hoarse,
waiting for the Monsoon,
and no telephone.
Well I call your name hoarse
in the sweltering heat.
I scream myself hoarse
but there is no telephone.
Philippe Pascal
Page créée par Pascal Bechoux, janvier 1998