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Question 1 of 3
Comme
un peintre
qui
voit
sous
ses doigts
I would feel lost
Like a painter who sees under his fingers
And who can't get over it
The colors of the day being born
Naître
les
couleurs
du jour
And if you didn't exist
Like a painter who sees under his fingers
And who can't get over it
The colors of the day being born
Et
qui
n'en revient pas
The colors of the day being born
And who can't get over it
I believe I would have found it
Like a painter who sees under his fingers
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