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We Are All Dead At Twenty
We are all dead at twenty
Picking the petals off the flower of age
Hanging from the tree of spring
In the most beautiful of landscapes
The earth rotates for children
Those who grow up too bad for them
It will swell the regiment
Of the officials of boredom
With days that resemble
Habits and grimaces
And migraines, trembling hands
From wrinkle to wrinkle, from ice to ice
We are all dead at twenty
Picking the petals off of the sick flower
Of an agonizing ideal
Of a barricaded spring
I who detests war
Sometimes envy
The dead child a spot of earth
Without having time to cry
Without seeing the sad smile
Without listening to the bird lying
Twenty years is to learn to live
The rest to learn how to die
We are all dead at twenty
Picking the petals off the flower of dreams
In a station or on a bench
Where the first love ends
Why prolong its youth
Why play at being again
Love is dead and tenderness
Committed suicide from body to body
We're all ghosts
Of a certain sex, of a certain age
With words for feelings
With masks for faces
We are all dead at twenty
Picking the petals off the flower of age
Hanging from the tree of spring
In the most beautiful of landscapes
La la la la la la la la
La la li la la la la la la
La la li la la la la la...
We are all dead at twenty...
archmemory✕
Dalida: 상위 3
| 1. | Love in Portofino |
| 2. | Paroles, paroles… |
| 3. | Le temps des fleurs |
Idioms from "Nous sommes tous ..."
| 1. | la fleur de l'âge |
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Russia is waging a disgraceful war on Ukraine. 우크라이나와 함께하세요!
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