L'ombre Triste

Wings glued by your blood to the pavement
And the day that illuminates your crushed specter

Sometimes you scare me, you make me see
Death at the bottom of the abyss, in the middle of the street

You resemble that sheet of paper
Smooth like the sky, a beautiful summer day

But a little blood sticks your skin to the pavement
And I'm scared, and I'm cold, it's my death, it's your death that I see

They crushed your head and your heart
They stole everything from you, poor crushed specter
I feel like crying; yet I don't love you