Ceux Qui Rêvent

My sleepless nights are not white
Barely clear, scattered with stars
Small holes in the waterproof canvas
Sad layers on the veil

And me, enchanted by darkness
I spend endless hours
Counting the funereal sheep
That line my insomnia

Ah, midnight is here
Ah, I can't sleep
And the less I sleep, the more I think
And the more I think, the less I forget
The immense dead end, the immense space
That stretch at the bottom of my bed

It's unheard of all these silences
How cosmic this boredom is
Should I resort to science?
Anesthetize the insomnia?

Ah, midnight is here
Ah, I can't sleep
And after midnight, I dance
To the rhythm of tachycardias

And everything speeds up and everything swings
And everything sprawls and everything escapes me
The moon is a slightly rancid fruit
Life is a disease

Those who dream are very lucky
The others have insomnia
Those who dream are very lucky
The others have insomnia
Those who dream are very lucky
As for me, I have insomnia

Ah, midnight is here
Ah, I can't sleep
Ah, midnight is here
Ah, I can't sleep

I can't sleep
I can't sleep
I can't sleep
I can't sleep