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Ans Paris all blue, under the moon, one evening in June
She was sleepwalking, her eyes far away
But neither blue Paris nor the moon existed for her, that evening
Heartache or fear of living? She was sixteen
Him, he strolled alone, big Lulu
A little plump and fifty maybe more
He would have passed without saying anything but something stopped him
This drifting despair he tackled
In front of her sad look, he spoke, kind words
She didn't even listen to him but followed him
She would have followed the devil, so why not this one
She thought he looked like a good devil, he took her
He had a rich house, fat Lulu
He brought this doe with lost eyes
She didn't tell her life story, he didn't ask her
But as one does for a queen, he installed her
To heal her, he surrounded her with a thousand cares
He picked the most beautiful roses from his garden
To give her smiles, he became a poet and a friend
He invented clown tricks, she smiled
But the bourgeois and the duchesses, the relations
In their own way whispered in the salons
In vain they said and slandered, big Lulu, he knew well
That even in dreams he never put his hand
Never laying hands on his sixteen-year-old princess
And those who were a little wiser or less wicked
Were wondering "What shines in fat Lulu transformed
And what binds this deer to this boar?"
At sixteen, despair passes and simply
She left him without a word of thanks
He didn't think she was ungrateful, words are of little use, you see
In a smile they parted and that's all
He lost his life there, big Lulu
But it was after his departure that he noticed it
She, she won something like a talisman and much more
To be able to think, when everything is ugly, of fat Lulu
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