And so it ends. With a bunch of keys on the floor, thrown throught a barely open window.
With a closet emptying out week by week. A closet that now looks too wide.
Did you expect something like this? 'Cause I don't. It's still hard to believe.
And like that closet I feel empty, feel like I don't have enough stuff to fill that space.
But, you know, a big hole in the soul leave you empty, but also lighter.
Time'll take care of me, won't it?
By now I just have to hold fast, like a lonely sailor who lost its compass.
Everytime it's possible, I just have to stare at the sea, 'cause "face à la mer, le bonheur est une idée simple"...
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