And I think back to the weekend
When all the time
You were listening to Stevie Wonder
In the attic by my side
Here from my room
I see the sunset, but
If I call you, then we fight
The Moroccan sky is turned off
What’s the point of a weekend
If you don’t know where I live
You always ask about me
Even today, on a Saturday
I ask myself why we’re talking, but
From a distance we can’t touch each other
The circle is closed, we’re inside it
If there’s too much silence, I can’t hear you
You know, how funny it is
To leave with the rain
Enter a museum
Waiting for it to stop
A bit like in high school
With your hand in the pocket
Feeling like two Cheyenne* with one arrow
I only want to know if
It annoys you and you don’t miss
Smoking the last cigarette here with me
I’d become another continent for you
If we were Cheyenne, but we’re just people
Do you remember the weekend in this pool
We’re no big deal
I was better off on the street
Talking to you until morning, but
We don’t understand each other up close
The circle is closed, we’re inside it
If there’s too much silence, I can’t hear you
You know, how funny it is
To leave with the rain
Enter a museum
Waiting for it to stop
A bit like in high school
With your hand in the pocket
Feeling like two Cheyenne with one arrow
I only want to know if
It annoys you and you don’t miss
Smoking the last cigarette here with me
I’d become another continent for you
If we were Cheyenne, but we’re just people
Just people who make mistakes and then call it love
These cuts on the heart burn
More than jellyfish on skin
I only want to know if
It annoys you and you don’t miss
Smoking the last cigarette here with me
I’d become another continent for you
If we were Cheyenne, but we’re just people
*. one of the indigenous people of North America