Paroles Violets de Momus

Textes et Paroles de Violets

The territorial drums a waltz on a loaded gunThe viper flexes, coiling on the vine& the irises are sinking in the rainIdiots drown the sound of a distant trainThe blind man plays his instrument & singsIn the Irish Sea ichthyosaurus swimsThe Reverend Ian Paisley grabs his god & shoutsThe Pope sits in the Vatican & doubtsThe generous American is loosening his beltSavoring his childhood in an after-dinner mint& the rosebuds are sinking in the rainRadios drown the sound of a distant trainThe blind man's bow leaves resin on the stringsIn the Irish Sea the rattlesnake swimsOn the feast day of St Patrick, like the poet ValeryA soldier pours a glass of blood red wine into the seaThe sun can never shine through the censorship of cloudsIn this city of open secrets & sudden shroudsWhile the astors are sinking in the rainAutomatics drown the sound of a distant trainThe blind old man's accordion is tornIn the Irish sea the adders swarm& in a Ballymena farmhouse a widow goes to bits& sometimes she remembers him & sometimes she just sits& as for the troubles, don't count us outSometimes we're unbiased observers, sometimes loutsWhile the tiger lilies crumple in the rainTelevision drowns the sound of a distant trainThe blind man pours the spit from an old tromboneIn the Irish Sea tapeworms twist & turnThe moon is a sergeant major who rises & recruitsIn the terraces of Belfast, in the back streets of BeirutSitting on a bed while I watch you from behindSkinny as a child, guilt-free, your face unlinedWhile the violets are sinking in the rainVideos drown the sound of a distant trainThe blind old man has smashed his violinIn the Irish Sea the vipers returnCould've been your conscienceBut I guess that never worksSo treat me like an equalTill it hurtsI violetti piangono per teI canali la Torre de BabelI violini piangono per cheIo sto morendo in questo hotel

C'était les paroles de Violets
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