Remember

Remember
The past is like “poupée russe”
In each souvenir another pleasure
Sometimes when I ‘m asleep I dream about past
I invent my souvenirs
Memory is like an empty coffre-fort
But at a end with a princess
I'm born again
When souvenirs are consumed
By now, the bright sun shines
Which wakes up its man
Away from the dream of the night
And life becomes brighter
Brighter then mister souvenirs