Show, show, show the screen will be show. Here, it is the Villa Noailles, but, in reality, we are at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, in Paris, and I watch my fear live which suddenly becomes obscure. A Victorian sap “invitation to the coronation obliges” had to sing or shut up, so I loosened my fist from my calame and grabbed Virginie Viard’s harvest, just for a moment.

There appeared to me a multiple rainbow made of flesh and dust, which rumbles to the door of my spirit, a new breath so that my pain of waiting ends.

Why I, the most living of the living, more than all, receive the fashion of darkness where the flowers among the living fall more than reason. Heat of the next day which will hit the ground before me, and where the reality without the muse of the bimbos in the front row will make me realize that, when fashion and the stars are dead in our eyes, nothing happens. Porque te vas… could the song from the show be any information?