Jacques Brel, with all the air he has left in his one lung, he records his last record. A record with this chanson on it, ´La ville s´endormait´, the city was falling asleep. Cancer had already took down one of his lungs, while the audio technicus in the studio tries and take away all the sighs and gasping of Brel. And after the recording, Jacques joked and asked, looking under the piano: if anyone had seen a lung. A wonderful song, though, a song about death.
“Et la fatigue plante (And the tiredness sticks,)
Son couteau dans mes reins (it’s knife into my lower back.)”