.Etendu sur un lit, isolement provisoire
Autoroute dans la tête, les moteurs qui meurtrissent
Un mauvais fond sonore, monotone berceuse
Le parfum du béton monte du fond des cités
J'ai envie de crier... et de tout effacer !
Effacer tout ce froid qui pousse à la folie
Effacer .
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