Celluloid Songtext
von Lasse Matthiessen

The celluloid is drying on my fingers
Passing Louvre on my right side
They closed down Montmartre
I passed by last night

Piece of sugar on my spoon
And a lit match in my hand
Taste the substance
Of the nineteenth-century bohème
I prepare for a film noir night

Places fade with time, they fade with time


Passing him on the pavement
The reflection of Henry Carter-Bresson
His silver-stained paper places fade
Flame, flame

The celluloid has dried on my hands
Seeing the Ferris wheel turn in the distance
This chemical substance
Burns easy in your mind
I develop a film noir night

Places fade with time, they fade with
Places fade with time, they fade with
Places fade with time, they fade with
Places fade with time, they fade with time