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A furtive glance,
Her eyes are like velvet
A hasty comb-through
On her hair of love
A thoughtful look
The silence is heavy,
She sits down
Pretty knees,
My eyes annoy him
Miss, you...
His eyes are threatening
My little heart is boiling
Is she made of ice?
Miss, you...
I'll have to tell him
What tickles my heart
But I'm afraid she's being ironic.
When she learns of my candor
Miss, you...
It's boring, she's cute
That she attributes intentions to me
Which I admit I don't have yet
One detail holds back my effusions
This is not normal, she is serious
In general, they are laughing
Oh, I'm doing this wrong.
I make her furious
Miss, you...
An incident that I deplore
Forces me to bother you
Although fear consumes me
That you are mistaken about me
Miss, you...
I finally found the right words
You're sitting on my hat!
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