.Au Parc Monceau, entre les grilles et les arceaux
Les enfants sages ont des cerceaux
Au fil de l'eau, dissimulés dans les roseaux
On entend piailler les oiseaux
Le Parc Monceau, petit morceau de mon histoire
Le vieux monsieur des balançoires, les cygnes noirs
La ville .
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