Nuit 17 à 52

On the night of 17 to 22, we were there
You lying back, stripped of cold adornment
Me in a rage that wasn’t like me
Night 50, I forced the blood and the faith

I want it open, so cut it open
Cut it open so you could see through it
And now I'm less like for the reign to come through

I believe that numbers fight against forgetting
And I already hate the sad night 53
Night 52, you seemed so threatened
Hungry for the winds that came to scatter
30, your perfect darkness and your revenge
At dawn, it’s the horizon that tilts

I want it open, so cut it open
Cut it open so you could see through me
And now I'm less like for the reign to come through