Françoise Hardy
Memory Divine
Oh memory divine
I wander
When death to death Is done
I wander
I need to lick a late, late, late passion
At every station of
The cross, the cross
Never is nothing here
Child, I wander
We need to sleep to die
I wander
Your heart is in a race
Never, never lose a will
We love dying men…
Oh Lord let me know
The wonder
Oh Lord let me know
It’s a cold, cold, cold christmas
At every station of
The cross, the cross
You mean my night is wrong
I wander
How do you feel babe ?
I wonder
I’m a full, full, full, reach of desire
Is there nothing left Lord
Nothing left but bones
But bones…
Oh memory divine
I wander
Oh memory divine…