April in Paris
I go on the street
And all is everyday
Grey walls and dusty trees
And rubbish on my way
I see the people's races
And all repeat again
I see them foolish faces
And heads without brain.
We a live in world of madness
We a live in world of sadness
I know my disease
And I want kill my sense
Hard life without drinks
But exit, in my hands
I buy the many beers
And drink this after wine
My brain-work to appease
In the madness, our sign.
