Rue de L'abricot

Poor sad boy
Prisoner of the city
Poor barren fig tree
Poor sad boy
Overwhelmed by the noise
Suffocated by boredom
You’re devouring me with your eyes
You’re peeling my skin
You’re eating me with desire
And you say these words to me

You, with your peachy skin
Your cherry lips
And your grape-like taste
You, with your fresh-water laugh
Your warm clementine
You live in a garden
At 3 Apricot Street
Apricot Street

Poor sad boy
Winter's gardener
Poor greenhouse plant
You have an empty heart
You don’t see the sky
You’re crying for the sun
At the bottom of the basket
Of my loving arms
You whisper in my ear
I love you and I want you

You, with your peachy skin
Your cherry lips
And your grape-like taste
You, with your fresh-water laugh
Your warm clementine
You live in a garden

And I’ll stay tomorrow
Our love will be beautiful
At the bottom of your garden
At 3 Apricot Street
Apricot Street
Apricot Street