Little Mary, I talk about you
Because with your little voice,
Your little habits, your poured on my life
Thousands of roses
Little fury, I fight for you,
So that in ten thousand years from now
We meet safely, under a sky as pretty
As thousands of roses
I come from the sky and the stars between them
Only talk about you
About a musician playing his fingers
On a wooden piece (flute)
About their love, bluer than the skies around
Little Mary, I wait for you numbly
Under a tile of your roof
The cold night's wind returns the ballad
That I wrote for you
Little fury, you say that life
Is a ring on every finger
Under the Florida's sun, my pockets are empty
And my eyes weep from the cold
I come from the sky and the stars between them
Only talk about you
About a musician playing his fingers
On a wooden piece
About their love, bluer than the skies around
In the darkness of the street
Little Mary, do you hear me?
I'm only waiting for you, to leave*
I come from the sky and the stars between them
Only talk about you
About a musician playing his fingers
On a wooden piece
About their love, bluer than the skies around