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One Tuesday in a week, my heart as broken as a wish
Without the slightest refrain, I will say goodbye to him.
If every end is worth its pain, foreign to its confession
I will invent myself as a socialite on the road to his eyes.
But what to say, what to do? What to do, what to say? My head is upside down.
This is a moderate twilight of compassion
Like a high jump, the bungee at the right level.
br/>Being wise without being Queen, what is the point of all this detour?
In this new ambition, I deduce my love from you.
If sadness replaces the power of passions
br/>This final face-to-face meeting between us will be right.
Nothing can happen, alas, from the counter to zero
If you return the threat too soon .
But what to say, what to do? What to do, what to say? My head is upside down.
One Tuesday in a week, it will be spring
The blossoming of this sorrow will fly away with the wind.
I don't want no more flowers that wilt nor a flash of lightning that we direct.
This paleness that we blame is not that which we demand.