Léo Ferré - Your style

Original Title: "Ton style"
Year: 1971

All those shouts from the street, those men, those shops
Where I see you in the alleys like an offense
To the three pences jewelry, to the lingeries of nothing
Those shadows in the eyes of the women when you pass
All those noises all those chants and those passing perfumes
When you place yourself in it or when I exile you there
To love you from further away like that in passing
All those slightly crazy stuffs, all that is your style

Your style is your ass, it's your ass, it's your ass
Your style is my law when you bend to it, slut!
It's my blood to your wound, it's your fire to my cigarettes
It's love on the knees that never ends
Your style is your ass, it's your ass, it's your ass

All those harbors of the night, that kid that we'd like to have
And then we don't want him anymore as soon as you beckon me
At the corner of a saying sticked in your wellness
By the blood of my set² and the wine of your vine
All this blending in memories of us
In those lost worlds of the year eighty thousand
When we'll not be there anymore and when we'll be reborn
All those slightly crazy stuffs, all that is your style

Your style is your ass, it's your ass, it's your ass
Your style is your right when I'm allowed to your style
It's that hellish game of head and then of tails
It's love that keeps quiet when you do not sing anymore
Your style is your ass, it's your ass, it's your ass

Wanting so much to know, one does not know anything no more
What I like about you it's what I imagine
At the tip of a gesture, at the rescue of my hand
At your mouth invented beyond indignity
In those streets of the night with my masked eyes
When you only recognizes a specific style of me
When I make of myself another one, imagined
All those careless things all that it's your style

Your style is your ass, it's your ass, it's your ass
Your style is your law when I bend to it, slut!
It's your wound, it's my blood, it's my ash at your cigarettes
When the night has thrown its fires and is dieing
Your style is your heart, it's your heart, it's your heart

²slang designating men's three pieces, usually used to ask to be left alone