Brief countertop. The subtext of the song Barbara the Black Eagle would denunciation of incest ( http://pagesperso-orange.fr/mondalire/pianoir.htm ).
The work of the Lady in Black has certainly never led to outright Marradi (who happens to listen Nantes through a national hero), but is it to say that behind every great artist dressed in black is hiding from childhood trauma?
Behind every song a corpse in the closet, or an ode to melancholy?
course the texts of each other is beautiful, but to eternal tears of Kilimanjaro I prefer the roguery of Juliette Greco below (more efficient than the Barry White, Gentlemen), the infinite tenderness a Jean Ferrat (I wish someone sings Morocco as it sang "My France), and a jolly good boil Pierre Perret, whose texts may be tender and popups but far from simplistic.
Yallah, I let you hear how the Greco wants us to peel! ;)
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