As I roved out one fine summer's morn. 'Mang lofty hills, moorlands and mountains. Wha should I spy but a fair young maid. As I wi' others was out a hunting.
Toi, qui comme un coup de couteau. Dans mon coeur plaintif est entree. Toi, qui fort comme un troupeau. De demons, vins, folle et paree. To make out of my humiliated spirit.
You've got your hair,. You've got your style,. You pout your lips and even smile once in a while.. Girl you look great,. But your a fake,. Haven't you heard that every China Doll could break..
I'll be the bumble bee behind you baby.. I'll tear up everything inside you, well yeah.. And it stings, and it stings. Sun shines through your openings..