You've changed a lot.
I knew you as a little girl:
Two black pigtails, thin little legs.
And who could have thought
That the kitten would
Grow up to be a beautiful wild black cat?
Silky to the touch,
You're still a predator.
"Hey! Hands off!" you say.
Playboys and actors
Try in vain,
They can never tame the black cat...
The black cat is the most dangerous thing there could be
For someone superstitious.
Cats grate on the nerves
Of old Don Juans.
If this black beauty
Happens to cross your way
With her supple gait,
Ring the alarm, my friend...
No one of them saw
You crying at night,
And there is people's word of mouth about you
That you always
Bring misfortune to men
And women scream, "You're a chatte fatale!"
Silky to the touch,
You're still a predator.
"Hey! Hands off!" you say.
Playboys and actors
Try in vain,
They can never tame the black cat...
The black cat is the most dangerous thing there could be
For someone superstitious.
Cats grate on the nerves
Of old Don Juans.
If this black beauty
Happens to cross your way
With her supple gait,
Ring the alarm, my friend...
The black cat is the most dangerous thing there could be
For someone superstitious.
Cats grate on the nerves
Of old Don Juans.