Louis Mercier

(álbum: Late Afternoon In The Meadow (1887) - 2022)

Love letters smeared
Burgundy red
And lascivious words
Suddenly end
One lunged on the other
Never did notice
The wine on the floor
Wine on the floor

Little Louis
Four years old
Saw a monster in his home
Late at night
Through the keyhole
Lamplight soft and yellow

Lace garter
Crumpled sheets
Hard breathing underneath and
Something slouching high above

Now twenty years older
As broad as a boulder
With the world on his shoulders
Louis Mercier
Louis Mercier
Our young legionnaire
With the wind in his hair
And the tricolour flying

From Saigon to the Ivory Coast
Above our heads The Holy Ghost
Floated along and cheered us on
As we marched for gold and Babylon

Rubber diamonds, tea and tin
The stage was set, the lights dimmed
A high crusade, we were but certain
Loaded our guns behind the curtain

Well the noblest plans are often thwarted
And the melody of fates contorted
From the deepest part of the human heart
The greed of man will often start

Iron, coal, steel and cotton
Would took your only son begotten
Damp and warm, the pages rot
And the teachers happily... forgot

They forgot

They forgot