Leaning against a cork oak

I was playing down some arpeggios

Praying to God, Buddha, whatever

Do you think about us a little ?

 

The world is in the hands of strategists

Black suits beige ties

And turbans white as snow

Who play strange funny games

 

There are in our trailer hitches

Some people of reason of courage

In all camps, of all ages

Whose only dream is to be happy

 

We erected cathedrals

Spiresto touch the stars

Said monumental prayers

What we could do best ?

 

Are you there, are you nearby

Or too far to hear our bells ?

Do you keep your hands in your pockets

Or is it your tears when it rains?

 

From  very top of your white loges

Do you see them wondering

Millions of ants  wading through

Head turned up to the skies ?

 

Are we alone in this story

The only ones who keep on believing

Are we looking at the right lighthouse

Or is the sky empty and hollow ?

 

Leaning against a cork oak

Caught as in the wire of a trap

I was playing down some arpeggios

I didn’t find anything better

 

Where are you in the atmosphere?

We’re waiting, we are hoping for you

But it is doubt and mystery

That you will have taught me best

 

Leaning against a cork oak

I was playing a few arpeggios

On a rainy afternoon

 

I was playing down some arpeggios

On a rainy afternoon