A Portrait's Gallery

I played the girls my melodies
On the grand piano
Then the harmonium
But what remains of
Those dreams of harmony
Is a cold and gruesome museum
If Lilly is a flower
Tell her she needs a gardener
I’m a bee I suppose
When a rose takes my cloth
Honeymoon discovers up my jaws
Now…
I am a werewolf in your garden
I have to piss upon you, love
All the flowers I had to pick-up before
They had to dry into my paws…
Rose covered me with thorns — she was stronger but I could
Strangle her pride into my gloves
When she pinched me, then I picked her
There was nothing she could do
For a rose — bud in my jacket and the whole world to look through
I cut her life at last
From her roots and from her past
She was dry, I was chast
Rose has died beneath my sunlights
Jasmine was cruel and mean
But my garden was made of sand
Under my desert sun, love is fading away
Perhaps I’ll marry a nice cactus some day…
Alors, cher Monsieur, vous me volez mes roses !
Vous me volez mes roses
Qui sont ce que j’aime le mieux au monde
Vous jouez de malchance car vous pouviez tout prendre chez moi sauf les roses
Il se trouve que ce simple vol mérite la mort