I'm standing beside me

2013-04-07 17:34:18

Je suis à côté de moi (I'm standing beside me), 7th track of the Spoken Worms has just been released.

Excerpt from the videoclip

As usual, I soundscaped the text Marianne wrote while Dorianne Wotton shot the video.

You can enjoy the music (don't hesitate to leave a comment).

And the video with english subtitles

I am standing beside me

I watch myself slipping
I stretch my hand to myself
I grasp that hand, of course,
Because I know it well,
Gracious, cheerful, sweet,
and yet strong, certainly,
almost beautiful when it makes an effort,
all of this, it gives,
just to stay alive,
alive and shiny,
even slimy sometimes,
meant not to scare,
right beside me,
again and again,
I watch myself stretching my hand to myself,
and I take that hand,
which I despise sometimes,
which I would like to ignore,
it’s here,
at the end of a gigantic rosary,
it's the keystone of a whole world that makes it sublime
because it knows how to give
because that hand does know what love is
because THIS HAND does know how to be loved
that’s why I take this hand as mine
with no desire, and sometimes, without appetite, or pleasure,
just because each pearl of the rosary,
counts on it
each pearl of the rosary
is bound, by this hand
I know it,
that’s why I take this hand as mine
let me cry,
merely cry,
over lies,
promises and betrayals,
let me cry over this life,
supposed to sublime me
let me cry over those absurd torments
which do matter only in the venom of my Muses
those very ones I stand against
those very jealous ones
of this hand of mine
The whirl is infernal
The whirl is life, is irremediable,
it is this hand, this hand of mine,
beside me,
this held out hand for me,
that I grasp
sometimes with no desire,
sometimes whith euphoria,
today, from habit,
tomorrow from certainty,
this evening from generosity,
for love, love of some pearls,
shiny, or desappointing, sometimes only dull,
fragile, submissive, naive,
sceptical pearls,
that, even when facing intolerance,
are always here,
bound to each other,
to this rosary
stuffed with life
linked to the womb of this world;
I’m not born yet,
I’m not get used
I don’t know how to do well,
I don’t know how to live
With closed eyes I can’t articulate,
I hold this hand of mine,
that I will never let me go.