歌词
Out of your personal scripture, philomel, she comes.
You sing songs to everyone about love and law and guns.
But paint a dirtier picture,
And i think you know the one: you're not saving anyone.
You're not saving anyone.
Oh, just open your door.
Be a flaneur once more.
You're not walking anymore,
You're not talking anymore.
♪
Overturning the strictures,
You leave yourself with none of your sinners to be saved,
Or your comforts that you crave.
It's a volatile mixture: the zealot and the rum.
So you knew it couldnt be won;
Still hard lost because hard run.
So here's to things that console,
And to at least knowing your role, and to never being done.
You're a rabbit on the run.
♪
Ne, ne travaillez jamais:
No, never work, that's what they say.
Mais ne, ne, ne, nous n'arretons pas:
No, dont lets stop until it's done.
♪
You're a rabbit on the run.