.Tu seras le parfum de l'aube et l'espoir de la nuit qui meurt.
Vent léger qui s'allonge et rôde, au matin, s'éloigne la peur.
Il y a longtemps que j'attends, j'sais plus bien quoi mais j'attends.
Y'a un moment que j'suis prêt, à j'sais pas quoi, à t'aimer.
Les esprits.
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