Note to self:

[bubosquared]

Remove all Brel from your playlist for a few days. Crying = good, but you don't want to end up slitting your wrists, here.

Bien sûr nous eûmes des orages Vingt ans d'amour c'est l'amour fol Mille fois tu pris ton bagage Mille fois je pris mon envol Et chaque meuble se souvient Dans cette chambre sans berceau Des éclats des vieilles tempêtes Plus rien ne ressemblait à rien Tu avais perdu le goût de l'eau Et moi celui de la conquête Mais mon amour Mon doux mon tendre mon merveilleux amour De l'aube claire jusqu'à la fin du jour Je t'aime encore tu sais je t'aime Moi je sais tous tes sortilèges Tu sais tous mes envoûtements Tu m'as gardé de piège en piège Je t'ai perdue de temps en temps Bien sûr tu pris quelques amants Il fallait bien passer le temps Il faut bien que le corps exulte Finalement finalement Il nous fallut bien du talent Pour être vieux sans être adultes Oh mon amour Mon doux mon tendre mon merveilleux amour De l'aube claire jusqu'à la fin du jour Je t'aime encore tu sais je t'aime Et plus le temps nous fait cortège Et plus le temps nous fait tourment Mais n'est-ce pas le pire piège Que vivre en paix pour des amants Bien sûr tu pleures un peu moins tôt Je me déchire un peu plus tard Nous protégeons moins nos mystères On laisse moins faire le hasard On se méfie du fil de l'eau Mais c'est toujours la tendre guerre Oh mon amour Mon doux mon tendre mon merveilleux amour De l'aube claire jusqu'à la fin du jour Je t'aime encore tu sais je t'aime.

In spite of all we're still together So many years of smiles and tears How many times we'd part forever And I would leave for parts unknown A day a week and I'd feel terror And crumble on the telephone And then in bed we'd play confessions And tell the truth what truth we knew That's how it's been with me and you And then we'd start upon a new digression Oh my love My old, my sweet, my gentle love From year to year as all the seasons fall I love you more, you know I love you In spite of all we're still together So many years of smiles and tears How many times I found another But you loved others too my dear A day a week and I'd need a pardon And fumble out the key for home And take a wound that went unhealing For you'd forgive without forgiving But of course we went on living Our sorrows locked in Christmas seals Oh my love My old, my sweet, my gentle love From year to year as all the seasons fall I love you more, you know I love you And sometimes we were almost open And sometimes we would almost touch I think we wanted very little But that always seemed tot much And did we say we wanted children I really cannot quite recall What we wanted was our freedom To dance through life I think that's all We are just surrealist pilgrims Melting clocks in marble halls Oh my love My old my sweet my gentle love From year to year as all the seasons fall I love you more, you know I love you ... still.

Comments

[lido-kitty.livejournal.com]

*sympathetic pats* Been here, done that. Hearing his voice automatically gives me suicidal ideas. And really, that one isn't that bad; the worst must be Ne Me Quitte Pas. Or that one about the other old couple, who watches the clock ticks by, signaling their imminent deaths. *sigh* The man just shouldn't be allowed to be so wonderful and talented.

Re:

[bubosquared.livejournal.com]

Oh, don't even MENTION NMQP! That's, like, my LN!M/O theme song.

I love Brel. Le Plat pays is my favourite song ever, and oh, Marieke! Love that, too.

[tsenft.livejournal.com]

aw, sweetie.

Re:

[bubosquared.livejournal.com]

Thanks. I'm good now. No more slitting my wrists over RP characters. Sigh.