Griseta

Strange mix of Musetta and Mimí
With caresses from Rodolfo and Schaunard
She was the flower of Paris
That a novel dream
Brought to the suburb

And in the crazy wandering of the cabaret
To the lullaby of some compadron tango
Nurtured an illusion
Dreamed of Des Grieux
Wanted to be Manon

Little French girl
Who brought sprightly
Sentimental and flirtatious
The poetry of the Quarter
Who would say
That your Griseta poem
Would only have one stanza
The silent agony
Of Marguerite Gautier

But the cold sordidness of the suburb
Withering the purity of her faith
Without finding her Duval
Dried up her heart like a lily of the valley
And one night of champagne and coco
To the funeral lullaby of a bandoneon
Poor thing fell asleep
Just like Mimí
Just like Manon