Moche ou bête, c’est jamais bon !
Bête ou belle, c’est jamais bon !
Belle ou moi, c’est jamais bon !
Moi ou elle, c’est jamais bon !
If I don’t belong by you, I don’t belong anywhere.
Do you know I’d follow you to the heart of nowhere?
Dr. Thredson: A mother’s touch. Skin to skin contact. That’s what I was craving, that’s what I was missing. My whole life. But she smelled of formaldehyde. And her skin, even after I removed it, was cold. And stiff
Don’t you worry there, my honey
We might not have any money
But we’ve got our love to pay the bills
Sound is the colour I know, oh,
Sound is what keeps me looking for your eyes,
And sound of your breath in the cold,
(East Harlem by Beirut)
Devi trovare un luogo dentro di te, intorno a te. Un luogo che ti corrisponda almeno in parte.
"I toured the light
So many foreign roads
For Emma, forever ago.”
If I had wings like Noah’s dove
I’d fly up the river to the one I love
Fare thee well, oh honey, fare thee well