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One night when I was
Moping around
In some English pub
In the heart of London
Browsing through Love Mons-Tre de Pauwels
I had a vision
In Seltzer water

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While medals
Of an emperor
Shine at his waist
Bronze and gold
Platinum engraves
With a cold circle
The mark of slaves
On each finger

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Up to her thighs
She's wearing boots
And it's like a chalice
To her beauty
She wears nothing
But a little
Guerlain perfume
In her hair
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With every movement
You could hear
The silver bells
On her wrists
Jingling her bells
She moved forward
And uttered this word: Alméria!