La Complainte de la Butte Lyrics

Lyric discussion by ruben 

Cover art for La Complainte de la Butte lyrics by Rufus Wainwright

English Translation: The moon all too fair in your russet-red hair sits a sparkling crown The moon all too red with glory, is spread on your poor, tattered gown The moon, all too white, caresses the light in your world-weary eyes Princess of the street, do allow me to greet you, my broken heart cries

Chorus: The stairways up to la butte Can make the wreched sigh While windmill wings of the moulin shelter you and I

I feel, beggar-girl, your feathers, they curl as they seek out my wrists I feel your young breasts, your thin little waist I lose my regrets I taste on your mouth the feverish breath of a half-starving waif And with your caress I sense drunkenness erasing my life

Chorus: The stairways up to la butte Can make the wreched sigh While windmill wings of the moulin shelter you and I

And see how she skips, the moon how she drifts, The princess in tow Da da da da da da da da da da My reveries grow The steps of Montmartre, all uphill, are hardest on the poor The sails of the windmill, like wings, shelter all paramours