She combs her hair like it’s an artefact
So quietly and delicate
Another century’s golden strands
Sheathed in cypress leaves and cardamom

She closes the door to all of the noise in her life
Imagines herself back in another time
Where she’ll steal a kiss from an olive skinned boy
The press of his lips full of wonder and joy

And she doesn’t have to say
A single solitary thing to me
She doеsn’t have to say
A single solitary thing to me
But I do
Oh but I do
Oui jе t’avoue
La vie est belle
La vie est bienveillante
Oh qu’elle est belle et bienveillante