You would like for her to love you
You changed your manners,
You take upper-class flair,
You only tell about
Your trips in premium, in premium.
You want her to consider you,
You spill your best readings,
You have seen hundreds of movies,
You explain the origins of
Those carpets on the wall, on the wall.
And there is an hour at wich it will go off... the signal.
You want her to dream,
You keep your pinky in the air,
You talk about jet-lags,
White pages
On the other side of the world, of the world.
(or) Why not Venice,
When the fountains light up,
Below the grey lights,
We could dance
On the shore of the lagoons, the lagoons.
And there is an hour at wich it will go off... the signal,
A moment where you will feel...
Animal, animal, animal,
Animal, animal.
The one waiting under the flood,
Laying down against the door,
The one who cries, who howls
Until you get out,
Who makes love to you in the car,
Who runs qhen you call,
Who cries, cries, cries
"My God the women are beautiful !"
"My God, my God, my God..."
" The women are..."
You would like her to dance,
To have flowers all around the floor,
And in the great silence,
You're feeling able to walk on the sea,
On the sea.
You would like for her to love you,
You spill your best readings,
And you forget about some,
Like those girls pinned flat on your walls,
On your walls.
And there is an hour at wich it will go off...
The signal,
A moment where you will feel...
Animal, animal, animal,
Animal, animal.
Animal,
The signal,
The signal,
Animal...