Drapeau blanc

t’was war as we knew it a thousand fears in a jar labelled ‘eau de thè’ a cloud blown over our heads by no man's wind and still turned the world that we knew and all that you were your wrist tossing a thousand pancakes your lips blowing a thousand kisses in a row your nights holding my silhouette amongst a thousand faces I have no more use for this shield or this sword whoever gave them to me can take them back I hold myself hostage to a thousand years of peace mon chouchou I'll be drinking onion soup from our mug, every morning a thousand years from now or until we meet again