The stars don't sleep during the day
They work 24 hours
The sun comes and they run away
They cry behind the curtain
They come back to mother night
Happy little girls laugh
Poets and painters sell them off
And old bitches talk behind their back
And while we're walking back home
I smoke one last cigarette with a fixed glance on the air
In order to fly away from here
And you stop me with your hand that has the perfume of almond
And you tell me "You know what?
I would have a child with you, I would do it"
The stars don't sleep during the day
They work 24 hours
The sun comes, they blow up
They cry behind the curtain
They come back to mother night
Happy little girls laugh
Poets and painters dream of them
And they look at the Moon, delighted
And while we're walking back home
I smoke one last cigarette with a fixed glance on the air
In order to fly away from here
And you stop me with your hand that has the perfume of almond
And you tell me "You know what?
I would have a child with you, I would do it"