There's a hundred page book I read all the time
Tells the story of a lone child on a star
And there are watercolor pictures here and there
Drawings I can't help consider for a while
'Cause they bring back things from the past
Things that we no longer think about today
They are thoughts that have been fading out with time
They're the remnants of a childhood we forget
So this is for the airman who drew a sheep for me
For the fox and for the rose that I have tamed
For the pointsman and the businessman I could not understand
For the silver snake who frightened me to death
And I still catch a glimpse at mesmerizing things from time to time
Merging recollections shimmer very, very far behind
They're the remnants of a childhood I have lived
I have lived, loved, and cherished 'till the end
Till the end
Till the end
Till the end
Writer(s): Jean-marc Pisapia, Luc Papineau, Jean Pierre Louis Joseph Brie, Guy Pisapia, Guy Florent Abrassart
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