Yann Tiersen

I don't like French music. I like his madness, though.

*** Le Quartier / La Crise


*** Esther


*** Dark Stuff


*** Kala


*** Mary

Do you recognize me
Here on this sleeper train
And do you feel the pain
Growing into the night, Mary
And I can feel the taste
Of your third birthday cake
Remember how it was
To hold you into my arms, Mary
It was there
The summer lights around
I was there
His hand upon my knees
And we're gone
Across this sunny streets
And we're gone
The day you died, Mary
And we go faster now
Together throught the fields
Here on this sleeper train
And I can touch your face, Mary
The precious things we've done
Hidden under my skin
I let you sleep a while
I let you sleep a while, Mary
It was there
The summer lights around
I was there
His hand upon my knees
And we're gone
Across this sunny streets
And we're gone
The day you died, Mary

*** La Rupture

Windows, doors, walls and carpets, chairs, tables and flowers, bread, wine, butter and jam, fries, meat, beans and all spices.

I've lost the taste of these things for two weeks now.
I'm just waiting for a cup of dirty snow.

Airports, railroad stations, highways, streets and foggy lines.
Traffic, lights, cars and planes, boats, bicycles and walkers.

Now I'm wondering, blind, in the city.
I'm surrounded by towers, made of dirty snow.

Faces, ears and bellies, backsides, legs, fingers and feet.
Sweat, tears, dripping bodies, parties, someone is fucked up.

Now I'm quiet in this snow, snowy country.
I'm hanging on until I am old, just older than now.

*** From Prison to Hospital