| (Note: What you read is what I hear. Between 's are the words
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| pronounced in Andalusian)
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| (Note: What I hear is what you get. Between 's are the andalusian
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| pronounce words)
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| He came on a ship with a foreign name
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| who arrived in Marseilles one evening,
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| when the white lighthouse on the sailboats
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| her silver kiss from him dropped
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| He was cheerful and blond as beer
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| and his clear eyes captivated Yvonne
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| when I heard sadness in her hands moan
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| sorrowful and tired of the accordion
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| And before two glasses of brandy
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| in a corner of the petit-bar
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| He was muttering to her his bitter story of regret
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| Look at my arm tattooed with this woman's name
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| It is the memory of a past that will never return
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| She loved me and has forgotten me
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| On the other hand, I did not forget her
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| And forever be marked with this woman's name
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| He left one afternoon with an unknown course
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| leaving no trace of his accord
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| Yvonne, of sadness, has remained dead,
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| just like a shadow, in front of the malecn
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| From one end to the other runs through Marseille
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| She asks the sailors about him And she goes like crazy looking for his footprint
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| because he has a tattoo on his skin
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| And at midnight, sad and alone,
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| in a corner of the petit-bar
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| she suddenly hears on the jukebox
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| moan again that song
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| Look at my arm tattooed with this woman's name
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| It is the memory of a past that will never return
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| She loved me and has forgotten me
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| On the other hand, I did not forget her
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| And forever be marked with this woman's name |