Laatst online: -
You may write me down in history,
With your bitter, twisted lies.
You may treat me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I rise.
Does my personality upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides.
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Il n'y a pas d'amour perdu