| Can I buy you something, can I stroke your hair,
|
| Can I hold your hand and take you somewhere?
|
| You’re a young nobody, you’re a perfect soul,
|
| You’re an empty altar that can make me whole.
|
| Can I take you somewhere, can I wipe your tears,
|
| Can I fill your pockets or befriend you here?
|
| You’re the final offer for the men who call,
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| My highest hiding place, our lady of Pigalle.
|
| Will you be ascending in this midnight heat
|
| On a flying buttress with stony feet?
|
| In the revolutions we tear down your walls and then
|
| Redeem you, reclaim you, our lady of Pigalle.
|
| You’re a young nobody, I’m a passing glance
|
| In the mad injustice of eternal romance;
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| Beloved, broken into and caressed,
|
| You will bridge the waters and I’ll give you rest.
|
| In the early hours when the streetlights fade,
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| For my inquisition and my last crusade,
|
| You’ll be savior, a reason for it all
|
| And I’ll be blessed and favored, our lady of Pigalle.
|
| Will you be ascending in this midnight heat
|
| On a flying buttress with stony feet?
|
| In the revolutions we tear down your walls and then
|
| Redeem you, reclaim you, our Lady of Pigalle.
|
| Up to the places of your heart where souls wrestle angels in the dark
|
| Ten thousand years the scent of life bottled up in you child,
|
| You’re driving men wild!
|
| Can I buy you something, can I wash your feet,
|
| Can I read you poems of my thirsty retreat?
|
| I’m a young nobody, I’m a perfect soul,
|
| I can take you in, I can make you whole.
|
| Will you be ascending in this midnight heat
|
| On a flying buttress with stony feet?
|
| In the revolutions we tear down your walls, and then
|
| Redeem you, reclaim you, our Lady of Pigalle. |