It’s always me who leaves
Who breathes white hairs
Into the car exhausts
I pedal, lost
On the corner of Sherbrooke-Papineau
Whilst your laugh resonates
And flirts with the birds
Whilst the pine tar
Sullies your guitar
Feed your accordés
It’s me leaving again
Skirts to the wind
Drums beating
The dedals of my messy life
À bout de souffle
Like a Godard film
My hair too messy
To be Jean Seberg incarnate
It’s never you leaving
Yours roots lost up North
You budding blond without sense
Thе smog is putting me to sleep
I dream of a little dеath
But our meetings are just departures