Everything can be found
In a continental bourg:
Pick up the abandon from the ground
Blow History pages away
Give birth to semiology

Only have a coin for a baguette
Love to be the poorest in town
As long as the movie remains
With our legs we can get lost

Talk, talk, talk and talk

I feel your caress under my clothes
You never have an ordinary look
Rivaling in eternity with the loggia
My tissues only turn to stone
When your animal breath is near

Caught me reading under the sheets
Now you're holding the pillow
Navigating the world from my bed
To uncharted maps -- no-one
owns these lands -- not yet discovered