qui es-tu

She wanders the Paris streets

late at night, so innocent and new

Such flesh

such flesh

Our Paris musician sings late into the night

talking about how her fresh flesh may fit just right

“la demoiselle fragile avec la peau si belle, voyons votre bustier”

he sings again

“la demoiselle fragile avec la peau si belle, voyons votre bustier”

She had loved, she had loved and she had lost

She had loved, she had loved and she had lost

The war fought in herself had left her body scarred, but untorn

so she wanders the Paris streets,

late at night, with nothing but the light of her skin to guide her, and the subtle hint of the stars to watch her

“ma beauté blanche, toi, ma beauté blanche, ma dame qui te fait mal”

“qui es-tu”

The night fades