Tour de Francia

On the beach and with honors
We bury the clocks
Funeral for the alarm clock
Then, on a cyclist steed
We circle the island
And there's no podium for the winner
They wrote our names
With white brushstrokes upside down
Just like on Tourmalet
Launched for a month, they go
Lost in the peloton
Saved against the clock
In the arms of the sofa, they go
Swimming in reverse gear
Sunk in the general classification
But afloat
Stickers, playing cards, shadows, naps
Old books and an exploit
That appears on the TV
Queens at the beach bar
Watching a short man
Who left his jersey on the sand
Sprinters' meat
Jellyfish fleet
August comes to an end
September is already here, they go
Lost in the peloton
Saved against the clock
In the arms of the sofa, they go
Swimming in reverse gear...