les joyeux cons ont des oreilles...

.... reliées par des terminaisons nerveuses à leur petit palpitant (c un organe très émouvants) qui lui même est relié à leur canal lacrimal, du kel s'écoule un liquide poisseux et salé.

DEATH TO BIRTH

Made too many of 'em, too little, too late
should I lie under (could be "in the dirt" faded out)
still in the dark (door? mumbled)
or walk around again?
One last song I'll write, why (while I?)don't get along
my eyes feel lonely why don't they shine?
'cause(barely said) I find the film of a cell, as I touch my tears
smells the taste, full of waste
but feel the others
and smother each other then let them plucker the cell
sugar sweet weather, goes through our trees, swims through our seas, flies to the last gasp left on this earth, oh no, oh.

it's a long lonely journey from death to birth
it's a long lonely journey from death to...
it's a long lonely journey from death to birth
oh, it's a long lonely journey from death to...birth

should I die again? Should I die around
the pounds of matter wailing from space?
I know I'll never know until I come face to faith
with my own cold, dead face
oh, in my own withered case
you are with me, with me, "lonely, alone, alone and I’m-a mourning you
ooh, ooh, oh, hmm

ready for a long lonely journey from death to birth
it's a long lonely journey from death to...
it's a long lonely journey from death to birth
oh, it's a long lonely journey from death to...birth 

                                           

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