Little Marie, I'm talking about you
Because with your little voice,
Your little quirks, you have poured over my life
Thousands of roses
Little fury, I I'm down for you,
So that in ten thousand years of this
We'll find ourselves sheltered, under a sky as pretty
As thousands of roses
I come from the sky and the stars between them
Speak only of you
Of a musician who plays his hands
On a piece of wood
Of their bluer love that the sky around
Little Marie, I wait for you transfixed
Under a tile of your roof
The wind of the cold night sends me back the ballad
That I had written for you
Little fury, you say that life
It's a ring on each finger
In the Florida sun, my pockets are empty
And my eyes are crying cold
I come from the sky and the stars between them
Only speak about you
Of a musician who plays his hands
On a piece of wood
Of their love more beautiful than the sky around
In the darkness of your street
Little Marie, can you hear me?
I'm just waiting for you to leave
In the darkness of your street
Little Marie, can you hear me?
I'm just waiting for you to leave
I come from the sky and the stars enter they
Only talk about you
Of a musician who plays his hands
On a piece of wood
Of their love more beautiful than the sky around

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