A rock'n roll band in a basement, dead for now, I hope.
I knew them well.
they were seriously warped and to much careless to survive any longer.
They use to play together one and a half.
Credible, I don't know. I never knew exactly what they could have think.
The basement was a good place for them, they looked
like basements, gloomy and roomy,
if you see what I mean.
One night, with the perfect face
of a placid man, T.... "said" to me:
"We don't care about understanding..."
let me tell you that I believed him at once.
I put my hand on is scruff and I stroke lightly
I said:"never mind T...., I love you whatever..."
we roamed in Paris, hand in hand, getting good time
together in few amazing places waitting for
the exciting moment when we will be intimately alone.
so
I remember how the night was
and I keep a feeling of a great flood of love that touch me
deep and slowly with the wilderness of an unbelievable think.
Me and NCK
a funkin' story, grey as a city could be, deep like a basement and
broken like the sounds of my childhood in the country.
it sound's like "it's not enough, just let me ear it again, please !"
K.G.
fotos by Facederat, Charlotte B et Jerome S.