It's him on the bench at the square
It's my friend, my lover
And it makes the pigeons laugh
Because he's a little old chap
Our dates
It's unlike those in the films
I run towards him, still sitting
One day, he even told me
"You are the woman of the rest of my life"
People think that he doesn't touch me
But he touches me, my sweetheart*
It's beautiful, wrinkles around his eyes
The times when he's late
There're his friends who are waiting for him at the bar
A beer
Two beers
And he tells me for hours
About lives he lost from his view
Him, at least, he has nothing more to lose
So, me, I didn't see
People think that he doesn't touch me
But he touches me, my sweetheart
It's beautiful, wrinkles around his eyes
One day, we went to dance
It was neither techno nor reggae
He took my figure softly
And I felt his hand trembling
There was warm and bright lights
I heard the sound of his steps
And suddenly, I felt
So close, from the heaven up there
People think that he doesn't touch me
But he touches me, my sweetheart
It's beautiful, wrinkles around his eyes
We said the shadow of the trees or the blue sky