Monsieur Clyde and Me Poubelle On the ground On the bench In the wind Gainsbourg and Champs Elysees A curbside profit and ‘mon vie’ Amour in pink Chocolat pour deux Champagne on white sheets Undressed for you Montmartre at dusk Seul a paris Running from the cops Monsieur Clyde and me
Le Retour If you could tell me one lie would it be that this would last forever and if it was the truth would the lying only be us between sheets, shelved like books 2 editions translated from Francais to Anglais and back dust bunnies below as we, the rabbits, snicker & scamper above placing strawberries on navels kissing centimeters of silked skin that stretch miles ahead our throats, bubbled in champagne, while we flatten our cards of gin
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