I had a button without a buttonhole, a silkworm
Half a pair of clown shoes and a soul in pawn
A Hispano Olivetti with cavities, a train running late
An Atleti card, a face like a glass's a*s
A private school, a compass, a brazier table
An Adam's apple, or Adam's bite, minus a rib
A diabetic bike, a cumulus, a cirrus, a stratus
A camel from King Balthazar, a she-cat without a tom
My Annie Hall, my Gioconda, my Wendy
My Cantinflas, my snowball, my three musketeers
My Tintin, my yo-yo, my bluing, my seven of cups
The hallway where I stripped you without taking off your clothes
My hideout, my treble clef, my wristwatch
An Ali Baba lamp inside a top hat
I didn't know that the spring lasted one second
I wanted to write the most beautiful song in the world
I wanted to write the song
I present to you my bastard grandfather
The godfather that sponsored me in the Foreign Legion
My twin brother, patron of the roaming merch
Sinbad the sailor that had a singer nephew
My sl*t cousin Carlota and her sausage dog
My chain-mail jacket against misfortune
Butterflies that kids with pimples hunt in dreams
When they dream that they embrace the Venus de Milo without hands
I got rid of the idiot percent, of the business tale
Teaching classes in a swan-song academy
With Simon of Cyrene I took a tour of Mount Calvary
What would you do if Adelita ran off with a commissioner?
Facing the Cape of Little Hope I lowered my flag
If I get out of sight, wait for me on the waiting list
I inherited a bottle of rum from a dying clochard
I forgot the lesson on the way back from a deep coma
I could never sing in one go
The song of the sea's drool, of lightning in the vein
Of the tears to cry when it's worth it
Of the pregnant page in the belly
Of the drop of ink in the anthem of the wrathful
I wanted to write the most beautiful song in the world