Mal De Africa

Already eaten, he was going to rest
Rocked by the mosquito nets and the noise in the kitchen
Through the slightly open windows, reflections on the wall
And some abstract thing took over me
I felt like talking softly to not bother
And it was like a Africa blues, Africa blues
With the chairs sitting on the street
Shorts and t-shirt because of the heat
In the window behind the bars, my father was combing his hair
The smell of hair gel took over me
The pleasure of feeling together to criticize
And it was like a Africa blues, Africa blues
In the window behind the bars, my father was combing his hair
The smell of hair gel took over me
The pleasure of feeling together to criticize
And it was like a Africa blues, Africa blues