Little guy, where are you going?
Running like this barefoot
I am running after Paradise
Because it is Christmas as they say...
The Christmas of the street
It is snow and wind
And the wind of the street
Makes the children cry
The light and the joy
Are behind the windows
Not for you, not for me
It is for your neighbor
My little one, have fun
While watching, while watching
But be sure, do not touch anything
While watching from afar
The Christmas of the street
It is the cold of winter
In the wide open eyes
Of the children in the street
Gluing their muzzles to the windows
All the little ones curve their backs
They are huddled like Jesus
That Sainte Marie would have lost ...
The Christmas of the street
It is the snow and the wind
And the wind of the street
Make the children cry
They are leaving while sniffing
They are leaving empty handed
Nose in the air and searching
A splendid canvas
My little one, if you see him
While walking straight
The Christmas of the street
It is in the sky of their lives
A sleeping canvas
Who did not come down ...