I feel I'm reaching a crisis
A prisoner and a slave of lust
Drinking evil out of a chalice
A voice keeps telling me I must
They can't see my awful face
So I'm discovering a new pleasure
That of a sin wrapped in lace
Which bans any leisure
A place of relief for lovers
Whom I wathc through the mirror
Tasting orgy and all sorts of fevers
They all will be mine forever
Behind the mirror ? I'm slave to fantasy
Behind the mirror ? Everything seems so easy
Writer(s): Didier Henri Robert Bouchard, Philippe Grelaud, Herve Fernand Henri Tasson, Frederic Dechilly
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