Little Marie, I'm talking about you
Because with your little voice
Your little habits
You have poured onto my life
Thousands of roses

Little fury, I fight for you
So that in ten thousand years from now
We find ourselves safe
Under a sky as pretty
As thousands of roses

I come from the sky
And the stars, among themselves
Only talk about you
Of a musician
Who makes his hands play
On a piece of wood
Of their love bluer
Than the sky around

Little Marie, I wait for you, chilled
Under a tile of your roof
The wind of the cold night
Sends back to me the ballad
That I had written for you

Little fury, you say that life
Is a ring on each finger
In the Florida sun
Me, my pockets are empty
And my eyes are crying from the cold

I come from the sky
And the stars, among themselves
Only talk about you
Of a musician
Who makes his hands play
On a piece of wood
Of their love bluer
Than the sky around

In the dim light of your street
Little Marie, can you hear me?
I'm only waiting for you
To leave
In the dim light of your street
Little Marie, can you hear me?
I'm only waiting for you
To leave

I come from the sky
And the stars, among themselves
Only talk about you
Of a musician
Who makes his hands play
On a piece of wood
Of their love bluer
Than the sky around

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