| They say of me that I have a pretty face
|
| And so I am told
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| And this compliment pleases me
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| I seems that I have a funny accent
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| Beautiful funny and unsettling
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| That brings a caressing look
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| I appear to see life in pink
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| But my heart dreams of something else
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| To love sincerly from my tender heart
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| The one that could understand me
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| And if necessary to defend me
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| To love, oh!
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| I want him so much to come
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| The one that will sooth the sadness
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| Of my Parisian soul
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| Alone alas I am from now on
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| And yet I believed
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| I read in his eyes that he loved me
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| He lied
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| I will not die from it
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| Barely will I suffer
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| But not to the point of losing my beauty
|
| I appear to see life in pink
|
| But my heart dreams of something else
|
| To love sincerly from my tender heart
|
| The one that could understand me
|
| And if necessary to defend me
|
| To love, oh!
|
| I want him so much to come
|
| The one that will sooth the sadness
|
| Of my Parisian soul |