Béatrice

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Pierre Emberger And Blue Orange Karma

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Beatrice, what is that magic
That I see in your eyes
Cool exile
Arabian smile
From Paris to where
Oasis is gold

Beatrice, why do I feel so proud
As I keep holding you
Gently tight
Deep in my arms
Naked and shy
Yet, so indocile

Man spends his time
By making war
Knowing words
Are nothing but worlds

Man can't be fair
Things can't go well
If angel forges
His heart out of selfish rock

Beatrice, will you meet me for good
Between colonnades
In temples
Hovered among
Whirling roses,
Clouds of incense, up high

How can man dare
Breathe in the air
That God gives all day
When death frightens

Man cannot bear
To live on earth
If angel wanders
Away from bliss of ether

Beatrice, what is that magic
That I see in your eyes
Cool exile
By Indian night
From Paris to where
Elephant is Love

Beatrice, why do I feel so proud
As I keep holding you
Gently tight
Deep in my arms
Naked and shy
Yet, so indocile, you're mine

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