4 Y 26

Now that everything is going so well
That there's money and we've run out of paper
That we're on the cover
And suddenly we're good
And the boss invites us to eat
That I play beautiful and expensive guitars
The taxi treats me like monsieur

I don't know who you are, you don't say anything
Every night the ringing
Startles me from bed
And I stay awake and blaspheme to God
And try to get a word out of you
But I get tired and hang up
I get up and lock the door of my house

I see you fan fan fatal
Lost in a fog
Of press clippings
Of photos, with glasses or with dark circles
Obsessive and a little 6, 6, 6

I see you with problems
Waiting like every night
And every day, it's nothing more than this
Nothing I can do
Always the same and I wake up
At four and twenty-six

And friend, this is what it was
Now I'm dry, I have nothing to lose
The glory was amazing, how great!
I'll tell you if we're invited again

I cushion the hangover with a thousand nights of partying
Years ago the last train left

I have a source, nothing comes out
Every night your impulse makes me jump out of bed
And I stay awake and try
I try to get a word out of myself
But I get tired and hang up
I get up and walk in the dark like a ghost

Condemned to wander
Lost in a fog
Of press clippings
Of photos stuck on the fridge, obsessive and not very good-looking
Feeling my way, waiting for a call
At
Four and twenty-six