Monsieur Solitaire
Montagne de Solitude
Monsieur Solitaire adorned Montagne de Solitude that was born by the moon, raised to the sky so close that you could touch it, feel it slip through your vains with every breath of moon shine that would fall upon them. A cat slept in his lap and his eyes were filled with tears from the winter the many moons had brought. One time with a moon like that he noticed that whichever breath he didn’t take would still sound and every move he would not make would still blow a quiet wind in his neck. Monsieur Solitaire was not alone. A tranquilising voice started to love every wind in the air, kiss every ear and seduce every lip to part and let out the tune that rolled aross the gum.
Tout seul, monsieur Solitaire?
Tout seul pour la nuit
Je suis là maintenant, de tes côtés
Je souhaite ne plus jamais être encore seul
Seul pour toujours
Seuls sous cette lune nous serons en phase
Seul jour après jour
Cette pleine lune représente
Un nouveau départ pour nous deux
Que nous puissions être seuls ensemble
Sous cette lune de pierre
Chez Montagne de Solitude
Chez Montagne de Solitude
No night went by without the voice of a tongue tied around words that drew him to the stars and lifted his head towards the beginning of something old. But no night did those words matter to him, and so he came back, over and over, to look upon his moon and know that some day it would smile at him and for him. Perhaps even for the woman whose arms wrapped around his neck and whose breath lay in his hair, his eyes too afraid to catch a glimpse of his saviour and his hands too afraid to touch her. Something fragile placed around him, brought about and blessed by his moon. She would sing so weakly, quietly, it was near impossible to hear the soft sounds of her whispers, so faded he never heard them release the grip of him or her steps on the rocks or the warmth become but a memory.
Tout seul, monsieur Solitaire?
Tout seul pour la nuit
Je suis là maintenant, de tes côtés
Je souhaite ne plus jamais être encore seul
Seul pour toujours
Seuls sous cette lune nous serons en phase
Seul jour après jour
Cette pleine lune représente
Un nouveau départ pour nous deux
Que nous puissions être seuls ensemble
Sous cette lune de pierre
Chez Montagne de Solitude
Chez Montagne de Solitude
No night went by without the voice of a tongue tied around words that drew him to the stars and lifted his head towards the beginning of something old. But no night did those words matter to him, and so he came back, over and over, to look upon his moon and know that some day it would smile at him and for him. Perhaps even for the woman whose arms wrapped around his neck and whose breath lay in his hair, his eyes too afraid to catch a glimpse of his saviour and his hands too afraid to touch her. Something fragile placed around him, brought about and blessed by his moon. She would sing so weakly, quietly, it was near impossible to hear the soft sounds of her whispers, so faded he never heard them release the grip of him or her steps on the rocks or the warmth become but a memory.