Song | Our Lady Of Pigalle |
Artist | Madeleine Peyroux |
Album | Somethin Grand |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
Can I buy you something, can | |
I stroke your hair, | |
Can I hold your hand and take you somewhere? | |
You’re a young nobody, you’re a perfect soul, | |
You’re an empty altar that can make me whole. | |
Can I take you somewhere, can | |
I wipe your tears, | |
Can I fill your pockets or befriend you here? | |
You’re the final offer for the men who call, | |
My highest hiding place, our lady of | |
Pigalle.Will you be ascending in this midnight heat | |
On a flying buttress with stony feet? | |
In the revolutions we tear down your walls and then | |
Redeem you, reclaim you, our lady of | |
Pigalle.You’re a young nobody, | |
I’m a passing glance | |
In the mad injustice of eternal romance; | |
Beloved, broken into and caressed, | |
You will bridge the waters and | |
I’ll give you rest. | |
In the early hours when the streetlights fade, | |
For my inquisition and my last crusade, | |
You’ll be savior, a reason for it all | |
And I’ll be blessed and favored, our lady of | |
Pigalle.Will you be ascending in this midnight heat | |
On a flying buttress with stony feet? | |
In the revolutions we tear down your walls and then | |
Redeem you, reclaim you, our | |
Lady of Pigalle. | |
Up to the places of your heart where souls wrestle angels in the dark | |
Ten thousand years the scent of life bottled up in you child, | |
You’re driving men wild! | |
Can I buy you something, can | |
I wash your feet, | |
Can I read you poems of my thirsty retreat? | |
I’m a young nobody, | |
I’m a perfect soul, | |
I can take you in, | |
I can make you whole. | |
Will you be ascending in this midnight heat | |
On a flying buttress with stony feet? | |
In the revolutions we tear down your walls, and then | |
Redeem you, reclaim you, our | |
Lady of Pigalle. |
Can I buy you something, can | |
I stroke your hair, | |
Can I hold your hand and take you somewhere? | |
You' re a young nobody, you' re a perfect soul, | |
You' re an empty altar that can make me whole. | |
Can I take you somewhere, can | |
I wipe your tears, | |
Can I fill your pockets or befriend you here? | |
You' re the final offer for the men who call, | |
My highest hiding place, our lady of | |
Pigalle. Will you be ascending in this midnight heat | |
On a flying buttress with stony feet? | |
In the revolutions we tear down your walls and then | |
Redeem you, reclaim you, our lady of | |
Pigalle. You' re a young nobody, | |
I' m a passing glance | |
In the mad injustice of eternal romance | |
Beloved, broken into and caressed, | |
You will bridge the waters and | |
I' ll give you rest. | |
In the early hours when the streetlights fade, | |
For my inquisition and my last crusade, | |
You' ll be savior, a reason for it all | |
And I' ll be blessed and favored, our lady of | |
Pigalle. Will you be ascending in this midnight heat | |
On a flying buttress with stony feet? | |
In the revolutions we tear down your walls and then | |
Redeem you, reclaim you, our | |
Lady of Pigalle. | |
Up to the places of your heart where souls wrestle angels in the dark | |
Ten thousand years the scent of life bottled up in you child, | |
You' re driving men wild! | |
Can I buy you something, can | |
I wash your feet, | |
Can I read you poems of my thirsty retreat? | |
I' m a young nobody, | |
I' m a perfect soul, | |
I can take you in, | |
I can make you whole. | |
Will you be ascending in this midnight heat | |
On a flying buttress with stony feet? | |
In the revolutions we tear down your walls, and then | |
Redeem you, reclaim you, our | |
Lady of Pigalle. |
Can I buy you something, can | |
I stroke your hair, | |
Can I hold your hand and take you somewhere? | |
You' re a young nobody, you' re a perfect soul, | |
You' re an empty altar that can make me whole. | |
Can I take you somewhere, can | |
I wipe your tears, | |
Can I fill your pockets or befriend you here? | |
You' re the final offer for the men who call, | |
My highest hiding place, our lady of | |
Pigalle. Will you be ascending in this midnight heat | |
On a flying buttress with stony feet? | |
In the revolutions we tear down your walls and then | |
Redeem you, reclaim you, our lady of | |
Pigalle. You' re a young nobody, | |
I' m a passing glance | |
In the mad injustice of eternal romance | |
Beloved, broken into and caressed, | |
You will bridge the waters and | |
I' ll give you rest. | |
In the early hours when the streetlights fade, | |
For my inquisition and my last crusade, | |
You' ll be savior, a reason for it all | |
And I' ll be blessed and favored, our lady of | |
Pigalle. Will you be ascending in this midnight heat | |
On a flying buttress with stony feet? | |
In the revolutions we tear down your walls and then | |
Redeem you, reclaim you, our | |
Lady of Pigalle. | |
Up to the places of your heart where souls wrestle angels in the dark | |
Ten thousand years the scent of life bottled up in you child, | |
You' re driving men wild! | |
Can I buy you something, can | |
I wash your feet, | |
Can I read you poems of my thirsty retreat? | |
I' m a young nobody, | |
I' m a perfect soul, | |
I can take you in, | |
I can make you whole. | |
Will you be ascending in this midnight heat | |
On a flying buttress with stony feet? | |
In the revolutions we tear down your walls, and then | |
Redeem you, reclaim you, our | |
Lady of Pigalle. |