Cramped in my narrow seat
Sandwiched between my daughter
And a man with a shirt striped with green
Who looks like he wouldn’t mind
Falling asleep on my shoulder.
In the dimmed cabin light
I consider the 7:40 hours flight ahead.
I feel tired, it’s been frantic
We ran around like there was no tomorrow
No tomorrow in France that is
And already we are leaving.

Soon I discover
A last minute gift from the gods
Ensconced in the reclining seat
In front of me:
A screen offering a selection
Of in-flight entertainment

I pick Chansons Françaises

Darting through the sky at 516 miles per hour
I sample the last sampler
Of things I didn’t have time to do
Life is short
But things accelerate
Between time zones
Forced rest and I fast forward

Je n’aurai pas le temps
Dit Michel Fugain
Chanté par un autre
Qui n’aura pas le temps non plus
Nous n’aurons pas le temps,
De tout faire.

Même en cent ans
Je n’aurai pas le temps,
Pas le temps.