Your lips, Louise
are the doors of a church
where I'm coming in the morning
with hat in hand
Your lips, Louise
d'you know what they tell me?
Where in some camisole there's
the cherry of a dog end
After all it doesn't matter
how I light my fag,
with the first light of day
or with love's lightnings,
if my lips get intoxicated
by yours Louise
On your lips, Louise,
mine are resting,
I can't drag the butt out of
such a mass service.
Your lips, Louise
d'you know what they tell me?
Where in this cathedral
there's a bandstand
After all it doesn't matter
how I light my fag,
with the first light of day
or with love's lightnings,
if my lips get intoxicated
by yours Louise
Your letter, Louise
arrived a little earlier.
From your cherry lips
they put the seal on.
Your lips, Louise,
they show me to the door,
my rage is taken out
on my bitten nails.
Paris will have you
and I'm jealous like a dog,
coming again to scratch at your door.
Your lips are closed,
Louise, you gave me the brush off,
tell me something ...
nothing.
Louise I don't want you anymore
since you're spending the night
down the avenue,
under an umbrella