She has those lights in the depths of her eyes
That make you blind or in love
She has gestures of perfume
That make you foolish or make you a dog
But so distant in her heart
For me it's certain, she is from elsewhere

She has those ways of saying nothing
That speak at the end of memories
This way of crossing
When she goes to the butcher's
When she arrives at my level
For me it's certain, she is from elsewhere

And I have fallen into slavery
Of that smile, of that face
And I tell her "take me with you"
And I am ready for all the trails
To other places, other shores
But she passes by and does not answer
Words for her are worthless
For me it's certain, she is from elsewhere

She has her long lace-maker's hands
To damn the soul of a Vermeer
This Venetian silhouette
When she leans to her shutters
This gesture I know by heart
For me it's certain, she is from elsewhere

And I have fallen into slavery
Of that smile, of that face
And I tell her "take me with you"
And I am ready for all the trails
To other places, other shores
But she passes by and does not answer
Love for her is worthless
For me it's certain, she is from elsewhere

And I have fallen into slavery
Of that smile, of that face
And I tell her "take me with you"
And I am ready for all the trails
To other places, other shores
But she passes by and does not answer

And I have fallen into slavery
Of that smile, of that face
And I tell her "take me with you"
And I am ready for all the trails
To other places, other shores
But she passes by and does not answer

CONSULTER LES PAROLES ORIGINALES