He leaves home to amuse himself,
His shirt ripped and his beard, unshaven...
With a black and a blue sock,
Not quite knowing where the North is:
The sky or the South!
Rose is already, all by herself, sheer perfection:
She wears a different colour each season,
She has arranged her books by author names
And wakes up, just without the alarm clock
Ringing...
[Chorus:]
Nobody knows how this love was born,
Between a rose and the moon up in the sky...
How did Rose give in, upon seeing the moon smile?
Yet nobody doubts this great love:
Some even envy its radiance!
It's because, in the end, he is also named after a flower:
Narcissus!
Sometimes, he wants to sleep on the floor;
He says that the spine fixes its position.
She always keeps her bed sheets perfectly starched;
Matching the throw pillows will Broderie
Anglaise...
[Chorus:]
Nobody knows how this love was born,
Between a rose and the moon up in the sky...
How did Rose give in, upon seeing the moon smile?
Yet nobody doubts this great love:
Some even envy its radiance!
It's because, in the end, he is also named after a flower:
Narcissus!
[Instrumental]
[Chorus:]
Nobody knows how this love was born,
Between a rose and the moon up in the sky...
How did Rose give in, upon seeing the moon smile?
Yet nobody doubts this great love:
Some even envy its radiance!
It's because, in the end, he is also named after a flower:
Narcissus!