.Il parle pas beaucoup, il sourit et c'est tout, et c'est trop
J'ai le pressentiment d'un terrain trиs glissant
Il s'entoure d'un igloo, je me demande а quoi il joue si il joue
Ses regards dйroutants m'attirent comme un aimant
Qui me dira а quoi зa sert, la mйmoire
Si je peu.
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