My grandfather was a sailor, he must have died on an island. My father had a farm and I am his only daughter. I ran away with this bastard from a village nearby. Today he drowns in his alcohol and leaves me alone with our three children to feed. It's not easy at the factory, it's not very hard either. But it's these hours that run by and then this clock on the wall. The first dream that passes helps me to hold on until noon where I have a few minutes of space to take a sandwich, drink a coffee or sit down. Otherwise it's me and the machine until the siren decides until the end of the afternoon, until the end of my life. Despite me, my heart goes back to this house in the land where I spent so many years of love to dance on my father's arms. These stories of lost sailors, these storms on the lake and these ships have never disappeared with their big sails like pieces of sky. Yes, but it's my life that has been wasted and it's me who was wrong to leave this factory to use my body for nothing. When I go home tonight, when I look at my hands I'll tell myself that at least once I would have liked to have the chance to go further. But I'm going to work here and forget everything I want and maybe never meet the man whose name is on the label. It will be me and the machine until the siren decides until the end of the afternoon, until the end of my life. I'm going to work here and forget everything I want and maybe never meet the man whose name is on the label.