Barbara - Bobino 1967 (Live)

Pierre - Live à Bobino, Paris / 1967

Il pleut

Il pleut
Sur les jardins alanguis
Sur les roses de la nuit
Il pleut des larmes de pluie

Il pleut
Et j'entends le clapotis
Du bassin qui se remplit
Oh mon Dieu, que c'est joli
La pluie

Quand Pierre rentrera
Bien, il faut que je lui dise
Que le toit de la remise
A fui
Il faut qu'il rentre du bois
Car il commence à faire froid
Ici

Pierre
Mon Pierre

Sur la campagne endormie
Le silence et puis un cri
Ce n'est rien, un oiseau de nuit
Qui fuit
Que c'est beau cette pénombre
Le ciel, le feu et l'ombre
Qui se glisse jusqu'à moi
Sans bruit

Une odeur de foin coupé
Monte de la terre mouillée
Une auto descend l'allée
C'est lui

Oh Pierre

Credits
Writer(s): Monique Andree Serf
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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