“MERDE…!” "…elle existe?!" "She should not exist—!" "Mon dieu, she walks like the Eiffel Tower if it fucked a hurricane!" "And me? j’ai parlé—!" "No, worse… I SING!" "Forgive me, pale Pierrot," "Forgive me, masters of the silent craft, je suis Un-mimed! UNMADE!" [Verse 1] I watched her chew a cigarette She did not light—she simply conquered it. Her breath? Like stolen church incense And the sweat of an anarchist. She crossed the square on bare, unshod paws— Each step a manifesto! She licked mustard from her thumb and smiled… And I became a traitor to silence. [Chorus] La voix me trahit— I try to hold it back… mon dieu, I do— But Scuzzy moves like hunger in a girl-shaped storm, And I? I break in two. My vow dissolves, my silence quelled… Et merde… je chante pour elle. [Verse 2] Her purple hair? A waterfall Of cabernet poured down a nude philosopher. Her laugh? It cracked a boulangerie window. A nun dropped her bread. I wept. She smells of sewer, rotting pears, And the thighs of révolution. I would drink her bathwater from a wine glass And call it communion. [Chorus] La voix me trahit— I try to hold it back… mon dieu, with my all— But Scuzzy burns like fire in a ruined cathedral, And I? I paint her nude on its walls. My silence shatters, a vulgaire fart… Et merde… je trahis mon art. [Bridge] I kissed the air beside their cheeks In pantomime… for seven years. But now I crave your blood, your bark— Your bourbon breath, your righteous sneers. [Verse 3] She sits beneath a flickering sign— “Ouvert”—a lie, like all the rest. I watch her sip, not taste, not care, Ma gorge est pleine de gestes. I try to speak—she stands, she leaves. The sky just yawns and turns away. She’s gone. I stay. I mime a rose— Mais elle ne revient jamais. [Final Chorus] La voix me trahit— I try to call her name… mon dieu, I do— But Scuzzy laughs—une hyène sacrée— And I? I split in two. My vow drips red on le pavé ancien… Et merde… je cours après rien. [Outro] “She did not even spit on me… mon pauvre visage.”
