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The Foreigner

With my face of a foreigner
Of a wandering Jew, of a Greek shepherd
And my hair to the four winds
 
With my eyes totally waterlogged
That give me a look of a dreamer
That never dreams very often
 
With my hands of a petty thief
Of a musician and of a prowler
Who has been caught in so many gardens
 
With my mouth that drank
that kissed and bit
without ever satisfying its hunger
 
With my face of a foreigner
Of a wandering Jew, of a Greek shepherd
Of a petty thief and of a vagrant
 
With my skin that rubbed
With the sun of all the summers
and with everyone who wore underskirt
 
With my heart that knew how to make
Suffering a lot whom has suffered
Without making stories for that
 
With my soul that no longer has
the least chance for salvation
To avoid the purgatory
 
With my face of a foreigner
Of a wandering Jew, of a Greek shepherd
And my hair to the four winds
 
I will come, my sweet captive
My soul mate, my living source
I will come to drink your twenty years old
 
And I'll become the prince of blood
A dreamer or even a teenager
As you will like to choose
 
And we will make of everyday
all the eternity of love
that we will live till we die
 
and we will make of everyday
all the eternity of love
that we will live till we die
 
Oryginalne teksty (piosenek)

Le métèque

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