Mais ma môme elle a vingt-cinq berges
Et j'crois bien qu'la Sainte Vierge
Des églises
N'a pas plus d'amour dans les yeux
Et ne sourit pas mieux
Quoi qu'on dise
Jean Ferrat, Ma Mome
I’ve always thought that it was like a fresh croissant: freezing it destroys the texture and flavour of it. He doesn’t need me to record anything. He can say it again anytime he pleases. I will never trade his voice for the recollection of it. I aim to stay tuned, to stay tuned all the time. And I’m left thinking: Give us this hour our daily croissant?
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