[00:01] |
She's mrs macabrette |
[00:05] |
she paints the lamps with black |
[00:09] |
she spreads chrysanthenums on her steps |
[00:17] |
three black plumes on her hat |
[00:22] |
glass buttons on her breast |
[00:27] |
the cypress bows down on her step |
[00:48] |
she's mrs macabrette |
[00:53] |
she makes love with the cats |
[00:57] |
and talks only with herself |
[01:04] |
dead leaves patch up her dress |
[01:09] |
the ivy climbs up her legs |
[01:14] |
...Even the birdsong looks so sad! |
[01:38] |
She burns the photographs of her marriage |
[01:47] |
to light another cigarette |
[01:56] |
Where her tears fell one day |
[02:01] |
now grows the weeping willows |
[02:06] |
now cuts her lips instead |
[02:57] |
Where her tears fell one day |
[03:02] |
now grows the weeping willows |
[03:06] |
now cuts her lips instead |
[02:09:30] |
so nobody will be able to snatch a smile from her |
[03:10:30] |
so nobody will be able to snatch a smile from her |