.Je croise des rêves, je croise des gens,
Je croise des morts et des vivants.
Le jour se lève en emportant
De la poussière, des ossements.
Sous les mensonges, sous les tourments,
La nuit s'étire, l'ombre s'étend.
Petite éponge noyée de sang,
Ne vois-tu rien venir.
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