Všechny překlady

Gently lift up the front wheels wile adjusting the stearing trim

on vit dehors, sur la terrasse

tes vulgaires manières de vivre et de parler font que tu te sois mise toi même dehors

Bloody men are like bloody buses
You wait for about a year
And as soon as one approaches your stop
Two or three others appear.

You look at them flashing their indicators,
Offering you a ride.
You're trying to read the destinations,
You haven't much time to decide.

If you make a mistake, there is no turning back.
Jump off, and you'll stand there and gaze
While the cars and the taxis and lorries go by
And the minutes, the hours, the days.

J'adore la airelle et la myrtille!!!


// Petit Fraise

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