She puts old bread on her balcony
To attract the sparrows, the pigeons
She lives her life by proxy
In front of her television set

Waking up without an alarm
With the sun
Quietly, without anxiety
The day passes
Ironing, dusting
There's always something to do
Lonely meals
As points of reference
The house so clean
That it's suspicious
Like all those places
Where no one really lives
People have given up
Lost the battle
Things have won
It's their territory
The time that breaks us
Doesn't change her
The living fade
But the shadows, not
Everything goes, everything works
Without purpose, without why
From winter to autumn
Neither fever, nor cold

She puts old bread on her balcony
To attract the sparrows, the pigeons
She lives her life by proxy
In front of her television set
She learns from the scandal press
The lives of others that are spread out
But eventually, from less bad to banal
She will end up finding it normal
She puts old bread on her balcony
To attract the sparrows, the pigeons

Creams and baths
That make the skin soft
But it's been a long time
Since anyone touched her
Months, years
With no one to love
And day after day
The forgetting of love
Her dreams and desires
So wise and possible
Without cry, without delirium
Without inadmissible
On ten or twenty pages
Of banal photos
Unmysterious balance
Of years without light

She puts old bread on her balcony
To attract the sparrows, the pigeons
She lives her life by proxy
In front of her television set
She learns from the scandal press
The lives of others that are spread out
But eventually, from less bad to banal
She will end up finding it normal
She puts old bread on her balcony
To attract the sparrows, the pigeons

She learns from the scandal press
The lives of others that are spread out
But eventually, from less bad to banal
She will end up finding it normal
She puts old bread on her balcony
To attract the sparrows, the pigeons

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