Les p'tits chapeaux [English translation]

She wears all sorts of little

Strange hats.

She smiles when she

Walks in the street.

At the Indians, at the delivery boys, at the bikers.

It's not the prettiest,

It suits her well, I'm not the best looking either.

She collects

Lost souls, everything and everybody who

Lags behind.

Old folks, cats,

In the pile, there happened to be me.

Wounds, bumps, those that bleed, she loves them...

When someone asks her why, she answers, "Why not?"

She has a sort of

Little pain in her gaze,

That shadow that makes people

Approachable.

She stumbled upon me

Without much warning.

I'd have liked her to keep me

A little bit longer.

She thinks I'm good looking so I believe it.

She says: "This turns me on," "This isn't ugly,"

"This leaves me cold,"1 she is always too hot

Or too cold.

The world doesn't scare her, she thinks life is fatal.

And I also like how she

Can do without me,

How she is proud

And secretive now and then,

How she gives it her all

Every time.

She wears little hats

And that's fine by me.

1. Not too sure about this one. Or "ça m'saoûle" either.