Tissu Rouge

I love this new song, but I can only make pieces of lyric poetry:

Turntable Who crackles along at
Sergeant Pepper Sunday morning on the UN
Although the s'rappelle Never too
The memories to which tients

It was already a comment
It was a comment
When things When nothing fell f'sait
A little red on g'noux
A little red Who attended All
Is not she lovely It was as if I
Long hair, the silk ch'mises
The bike, he smoked stems
Who flew Drawings
And you sucked maame Not born
I was happy you know me
Three little turns and THEN Thirty years
One, two, three sun EST, the Grand
What NOT to be great not catch me I
The sewing machine purred Who
Bits of fabric at our feet
Everything had Sense of UN and that It was ja
It was already a comment
And The World As withers UN
Do Not stop to Turn
And life smelled the spray
The Cypress Park Chambrun
And you you were not the Sami
Already I was happy
Three little turns and THEN Thirty years
One, two, three sun EST, the Grand
What NOT to be great me I no guts
And you you were not born Sami
I was happy you know me
Three little turns and THEN Thirty years
One Two Three Sun, EST, the Grand
What NOT to be great me I no guts
Where to go BUT THEIR End of Days
The beautiful dreams, great love
Where flee fighting THESE Done Time In
Ca s'ra DIS comment
s'ra this comment?

Someone used a digital translator .. lot of work, so nice intentions, but too many errors ..
And remember, words often do not make much sense ..

A crackling turntable in the distance
Sergeant Pepper on a Sunday morning
One remembers too well
The memories that are important

How he was already
How it was
When he was not important when we fell
A bit of red on the knees
A little red and neat ..
Is not she lovely - as if it were me
Long hair, silk shirts
The bike, he was smoking stems
The bosses, who flew
And you were not born yet
I (a) was happy, you know
Three little turns and then thirty years
One, two, three, sun, we do a great
Except that, to be raised .. I have not the courage
The sewing machine that hums
The bundles of cloth on our feet
Everything has a meaning and that it was already
it was already
And the world as a tourniquet
Never stopped turning
And life felt fine spray
Cypress Park Chambrun
And you were not there yet
I was glad I already
Three little turns and then thirty years
One, two, three, sun, we do a great
Except for being an adult, I have not the courage
And you were not born yet

But where they end their days
The dreams, the great loves
Where do they spin, these pieces of time
How can she say / said?
How will they be?

Turntables crackling in the distance
Sergeant Pepper on a Sunday morning
It is never too s'rappelle
The memories that we

How he was already
How was
When he f'sait nothing when he fell
A bit of red on g'noux
A neat little red all
Is not she beautiful, as if it were me
Long hair, silk ch'mises
The bike, he was smoking stems
The drawings, which flew
And thee not even born
I was happy you know me
Three little turns and then.