Jacques Prevert

Complaint Of The Shot

They cast me into bad luck pity I was bad target the sky was so blue They looked up by invoking their god And the one who approached only without haste just like them a little bit pulled aside next to the last resort by the grace of the dead At the grace of God. They cast me into bad luck by the feet and threw me in the cart of the dead dead from the ranks ranks during their lifetime numbered their living hostile to death And I'm there near them living a little longer killing the time of my pain killing time as best I can.

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