In the storm ° of an ageless wood,
Not too far ° from Poitou,
The autumn ° when I was living with you,
I saw the fine face ° of a young, wild girl
who wore a ° nice jewel,
Her green eyes ° swallowed by her red hair,
The autumn ° when I was living with you..
God's making pictures, up there, with the clouds,
The rain's making mirrors in the mud,
I've roamed the world for you !
I keep a mirage ° locked in a strange cage,
As all lunatics know° how to make..
I've roamed the world for you..
She was° of age° to go wandering
bare-footed on the stones
in the rivers° where come ° to drink the wolves.
..As I passed by, she took all my luggage,
Followed me everywhere,
Up to the floor where I had my window,
Her green eyes swallowed in her red hair..
God's making pictures, up there, with the clouds,
The rain's making mirrors in the mud,
I've roamed the world for you !
I keep a mirage ° locked in a strange cage,
As all lunatics know° how to make..
I've roamed the world for you..
Day after the storm, there was message:
Yes, I truly liked you..
But I don't think that now I will need you..
Her green eyes swallowed in her red hair..
God's making pictures, up there, with the clouds,
rain's making mirrors in the mud,
I've roamed the world for you !
I keep a mirage ° locked in a strange cage,
As all lunatics know° how to make..
I've roamed the world for you..