Mylene Farmer - L'amour N'est Rien

Tons of celestials.

# My hook #.

And your white Gabrielle.

Obsessed with the worst.

A little too physical.

The urge to premir.

Is Pharaohic.

A line of the deed.

♪ Of a stone-walled screw ♪.

Me without the tongue.

Without sex I'm becoming.

Love is rare.

When it's politically correct.

We like each other.

We don't like each other when we get hurt.

Love is rare.

When it's sexually correct.

We're bored.

We shout a tone for his treatment.

Life is nothing.

When she has a fever.

She's burning up and everything's just.

Without taking the gays.

Life is nothing.

She's light.

In front of a small eardrum.

Who even follows him.

Obsessed with the worst.

And not very bright.

Every sigh.

Metaphysics.

I've got it in my head.

Tons of pirouettes.

Of his angel.

Nothing strange to me.

Obsessed with the worst.

And not very bright.

Share my laughter.

More like fuck-ups.

I have in my greenhouse.

A greenhouse effect.

We're in deep shit.

I'm mudding it all together.

Love is rich.

When it's politically correct.

We like each other.

We don't like each other when we win.

Love is nothing.

When you speak properly.

We're bored.

We shout a tone and it stops.

...