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Nostalgie.
All the church bells
ring the glad of our countryside.
I know that our mirrors are breaking
On
the wall of the castle of Versailles
Nostalgie.
Nostalgie.
I am the forest of Sanlis and all those chains that we cut down.
I am the last serf of France
that we wait for
after a rifle.
You see,
I am the train that crossed the mountain villages.
They left my rails rusty and I am getting old alone in a hangar.
I want to die in a pyramid in front of Egypt and its treasures.
I
think of you, Mr. Mermose.
The bay of Rio has changed a lot, you know.
Today, it's something else.
A little man in a comic strip.
Today,
the firemen are useless and the land of fire is in exile.
Nostalgie.
Nostalgie.
Today, it's nothing, time.
Time.
Time.
Today, it's tomorrow, time.
And in our lonely cities,
we are extraordinary people.
And I run after your moulins.
And what do they tell me?
Do you know what they tell me?
That I am crazy.
Yes, I am crazy.
Like those men
who go to war and who don't dare to fight in a duel.
Oh no, look,
we are not even animals anymore.
We are already robots.
Robots.
Robots.
Love only exists in books.
Me,
I only have music and songs
to talk to them.
I would be the last romantic before the
computer X definitely unprogrammed me.
Me,
if you give me a rainbow and I walk through the castles,
in the mist and in the dawns,
far from the blue sky of the Atlantic
and far,
far from the gray of the cities of the North.
My nostalgia is different.
Ma soeur est differente,
on n'a pas fait de souvenirs.
Et je suis un enfant qui invente.
with dates that meant nothing,
with kings, emperors, presidents,
Berlin walls and Chinese murals.
Walls are useless,
walls.
It's time to tell you.
You talk too much.
We need silence.
All the chronometrics,
life,
love, death.
We won't even be able to beat our own records.
We need to break the chronometrics and live,
live,
live in the rhythm of the seasons.
If we have any left.
When I think we're having fun with satellites,
when I think we're having fun with new planets,
while here,
here we're destroying all forests,
oceans,
rivers.
We're destroying all the hearts of souls.
If our consciousnesses could be disturbed,
yes,
disturbed as often as our phones.
I don't want to believe in superstitions anymore.
I want to believe in a God for every religion.
If there's one
who can hear us,
he should sing my song with me.
I'm talking to you, who's in your office,
in your factory or on a tractor.
And I sing for the men of the New World.
For you,
Pedro de Madrid,
Gianni de Milan,
Jeremy de San Francisco.
To tell you what?
To tell you that I'm afraid.
Afraid of our planes that go too fast.
Afraid of these countries that I will never meet again.
I don't want our words to be heard like a foreign language.
No.
I don't want it anymore.
I want us to have time to live, all of us.
Time to feel the sun that burns us and the wind that blows us away.
Time to look at the bees and the squirrels.
Time to talk to our children.
Time to forget terror,
violence, stupidity.
Stupidity.
Let men become men and the earth a garden.
Let peace be in our hearts.
And let our will be done.
Nostalgia.
Nostalgia, planet God.
I will go to you,
to take my place.
Nostalgia.
Nostalgia.
Nostalgia, I love you.