The bike

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Angol

The bike

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As we went off early in the morning
As we rode off on dirt roads
on our bikes
We were a bunch of pals
There was Fernand and Firmin
And Francis and Sebastien
And Paulette too

We were all falling for her
As if we were floating on air
on our bikes
On the small dirt roads
we often went through hell
to keep on pedalling
in front of Paulette
Granted, she was doing her best
She was the postman's daughter
on her bike
And since she was eight
Following him she had gone through
All roads in the neighbourhood
on her bike

When we came near the river
We laid down in the brackens
our bikes
Then we rolled through the fields
Spawning a shifting bouquet
Of grasshoppers, butterflies
and little frogs
As the sun on the horizon
Did cast our shadows
on every bush
We came back, exhausted and happy
Yet a little sad
Never to be alone
with Paulette

Quietly grab her hand
Forget a bit about the pals
and the bike
We thought tomorrow would be the day
I'll dare, I'll do it tomorrow
While we'll ride the dirt roads
on our bikes

Kűldve: Guest Péntek, 26/11/2010 - 22:22
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