Six Fingers in One Hand, She Holds the Dawn (Part II) lyrics

In the horizon She is so alone She searches for what was left behind She yells, she cries Her hands are full of dust and blood Far, far from that scream Six fingers in one hand, she holds the dawn Far, she seems so far, so far You, flesh of my blood Blood of my flesh You never fall asleep Over my dead body Il a vécu tantôt gai comme un sansonnet Tour à tour amoureux insoucieux et tendre Tantôt sombre et rêveur comme un triste Clitandre Un jour il entendit qu'à sa porte on sonnait C'était la Mort! Alors il la pria d'attendre Qu'il eût posé le point à son dernier sonnet Et puis sans s'émouvoir, il s'en alla s'étendre Au fond du coffre froid où son corps frissonnait Et quand vint le moment où, las de cette vie Un soir d'hiver, enfin l'âme lui fut ravie Il s'en alla disant: Pourquoi suis-je venu? Go baby, don't worry 'Cause there's no other Escape Go baby, don't worry 'Cause there's no other Escape Go baby, don't worry 'Cause there's no other Escape Horizon is full of faces They yell They yell for someone who's gone No light Their body is burnt No hand No mouth They yell for someone who can remember What they were Six fingers in one hand, she holds the dawn Six fingers in one hand, she holds the dawn In the horizon, those faces They yell for someone who can remember What they were L'homme est malade parce qu'il est mal construit Je ne suis pas fou! On a réinventé les microbes pour imposer une nouvelle idée de dieu Alors vous lui réapprendrez à danser à l'envers et cet envers sera son véritable endroit A saving madness Cast by leafless trees Caution the Sun filtered to smoking ruins From an austral of unburied dead gods Cool shadows fall over strong ideas Cutting off the edge of time An object is the result of looking at something which, in itself, has no quality or charm I pick something which in itself has no meaning at all I disregard completely the aesthetic quality of the object I'm against craftsmanship I say the world is full of wonderful craftsmen but there are very few practical dreamers In the early days in Paris, when I first came over And I passed by a hardware shop and I saw a flatiron in the window I said: There's an object which is almost invisible, maybe I could do something with that? What could I do to add something in it that was provocative? So I got a box of tacks and glued on a roll of tacks to (it) To make it useless, as I thought, but nothing is really useless You can always find a use even for the most extravagent object