unthinkable is not British

 

and impossible is not french

me my lot

too old, too cougard, too much prognosis to kill the witch
too much France there is nothing left at all
too poor in rags

but I stay me

in the world
too crazy
too many people are stoned
too much I put the batons in the wheels
too much I put you the fear instead of a hope that tomorrow the future is not written yet

you

too young
too muscular
too sexy
too competant
too smart
too self-taught
too much I succeeded
you jealous me too much

so what ?? does that make us idiots like them ?? and believe in their bullshit ??

no tomorrow is ours and
you alone write your future
not them

will come the day when the bullshit stops

and that day will come believe me

But meanwhile

don't give them reason

me neither

yes we live our quarrels in the morning
I miss you for lunch
and love in the evening

on the Internet
it's like that

While waiting for the day, your smile that melts me with your curls will lay your lips on mine
in that I believe

and for all the rest you the charm and the distinction emphasizing the aerial beauty of your body of English bohemians
I have faith belief in everything you will do
even if they don't want to
even if sometimes we do not agree on that or other
know that I agree anyway and I am sorry to have 

a character of French pig but the pig loves you and will 

love you whatever you are whatever you do and that until the end of time
here is so good night my divine love