.(A. Chenneviere/B. Pierre)
Oh le temps est lent,
Oh le monde est grand,
Quand on est seul, quand on attend,
Sous le froid linceul d'un ciel sans vent
Oh dans le silence,
De la ville immense,
Il y a des cris, une rumeur,
Des gens qui rient, des gens qui pleur.
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