(cimetière de Jette, Avril 2006, une tombe d’amour)

L’éternité a les mêmes prérogatives que le désespoir…

« History repeats itself
Coiling down into the future
When it’s one second to twelve
The hands touch and follow deeper

History repeats itself
I didn’t learn, I wouldn’t listen
I couldn’t see the books were on the shelf
For my good sense, I never missed ’em

Wish I was standing by the shore
Feel the wind blow in my face
See the waves roll in for an encore
They take a bow, they know their place

I do not want, I do not feel
I’ve turned away in myself
I can’t find anything that’s real
But history repeats itself« 

A.O.S