(Mario Leblanc)
It's the end of October, the beginning of November, the sky is pink and lavender blue.
Alone in the crowd of Montreal, I walk, I run on Mont-Royal.
The trees have lost their clothes, the bluebirds are closing their nests.
Dirt road, good pace, my love, I miss you.
It's the end of October, the beginning of November, my hand is looking for you in its scales.
A beautiful Sunday on Saint-Laurent
All the smells are there all the time.
Languages u200bu200bare a pretty mess, so far from the Tower of Babel.
Me, it’s your voice that I want to hear, my love, I miss you.
It's the end of October, the beginning of November, my city falls asleep in your absence.
But tell me, when will you come back? Laughing without you is wasted effort.
You're as rare as a shooting star.
I'm not making wishes, I took a chance.
I keep your smell in the room, my love, I miss you.
(Solo)
It's the end of October, the beginning of November, the day is short, the night heavy.
Yellow and red on the city, the wind moves them, scatters them.
Autumn is sad, the sky is low, finish quickly and come back to me
Undo the knot in my stomach, my love, I miss you.
(Solo)
It's the end of October, the beginning of November, the sky is pink and lavender blue.
Alone in the crowd of Montreal, I walk, I run on Mont-Royal.
The trees have lost their clothes, the bluebirds are closing their nests.
Dirt road, good pace, my love, I miss you.

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