He used to say often: I walk alone into the wind
I am a child
He used to say: I play but victory means nothing
For a crazy king
He was of Roman blood, of Tzigane heart
He was a man who man women dream
He was my friend
This shield of truth, this bit of fantasy
I liked his truth, his laugh and his madness
This way of existing no matter what happened
Living like this was his identity
He liked noise, free horses and infinity
He was spirited
He liked to choose, he dreamed of leaving one day
on the ocean
He was like the stained-glass windows at cathedrals
He was a man who shined without doing any harm
He was my friend
This shield of truth, this bit of fantasy
I liked his truth, his laugh and his madness
This way of existing no matter what happened
Living like this was his identity
When I think about him
I remember mornings the colors of the sun
When I think about him
I seem to hear his voice calling me
He was my friend
He wouldn't speak of love but I loved him just the same
In softness and velvet, yes
He was my friend
He could play the drum in the streets of Paris
And call me to help, yes
He was my friend
This shield of truth, this bit of fantasy
I liked his truth, his laugh and his madness
This way of existing no matter what happened
Living like this was his identity