As I finished my seventh beer, my loss of hope was replaced by despair. How I miss the days where the scent of alcohol lurked into my nose but not into my brain, with a drunk brain there is nothing between the act and the thought, and under this vichyssoise of beers I now veer the most verbose

Raise my astral body to the spaceAnd may the angels take me to higher plainsTo the density where poets are gods,Where my poems won’t be in vainLook at the cities from up highAnd see how bright Algiers can shine ;To tell myself that, you, where you are, You are the most sparkling light.

Now I give this rascal weight from off my headThe pride of a streetborn artist from off my chestWith my own hands I renounce my earthly claimsWith my own sins I ink this very bookIn this vaudevillian theater we’ve all had our playsOf wisdom, folly, love songs and lamentations of twin flames

Codolyc 30 mg And the cops come out of the woodworkWe hide in the holes we call homeCatch us if you canAnd I hear la voix de ville humming in my headAnd I see the sirens of the seven villes moving aheadTo come and greet the connoisseur of pathsMe I say « Bravo» and «Long live death»