.Quel beau dimanche
Et les oiseaux sur la branche
Chantent à me faire taire
Je hais les dimanches, ils me désespèrent
Je range, je range et m'en vais prendre l'air>
Un revolver, des cachets, un couteau
Mon foulard vert, et l'envie
L'envie de se foutre en l'air>.
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