.Les heures de gloire rhytmées de doutes
Le prix que ça coute
Pour toujours vouloir>
La voix qui vacille, qui scintille
La salle remplie d'un amour si grand
Si fort qu'il me porte, me soulève, me prend
Qu'importe la note, chanter, s'aimer>
Le temps qui compte est tou.
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