.Si le vent pousse les nuages, on apercevra le soleil
Et l'on pourra tourner la page de ces matins, pauvres réveils
Ces matins qui gardent en otages nos envies au fond d'un sommeil
Sortir la tête de ce potage, crier les rêves que l'on bégaye
J'ai l'horizon dans mes bagages, des av.
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