Poeme : Blast The Life

What’s the fuck with my life ?
Full of kids, rid of wife,
Should it be as a blast,
Never say this is last.

Hit the road, Jack you’re right,
Never turn left and right,
Full of sun in the wind,
Step forward is your mind.

All around is the light,
Pick the day, forget « might »,
Fuck the dark, make your mind,
Never be just a kind.

Game over muddy life,
Sharp the road as a knife,
Sun is back, here at last,
Start again, free the blast !

watεs tə fyk wit mi lifə ?
fyl ɔf kid, ʁid ɔf wifə,
ʃuld it bə a a blast,
nəve sε tiz- is last.

it tə ʁɔad, ʒak iuʁə ʁajt,
nəve tyʁn lεft ɑ̃d ʁajt,
fyl ɔf sœ̃ ɛ̃ tə wɛ̃d,
stεp fɔʁwaʁ is iuʁ mɛ̃d.

al aʁund is tə liɡt,
pik tə dε, fɔʁʒət « miɡt »,
fyk tə daʁk, makə iuʁ mɛ̃d,
nəve bə ʒyst a kɛ̃d.

ɡamə ɔve mydi lifə,
ʃaʁp tə ʁɔad a a knifə,
sœ̃ is bak, əʁə a last,
staʁ aɡɛ̃, fʁi tə blast !