The men who are passing byThe men who are passing by, mother
They always sent me postcards
From Bahamas, mother
The men who are passing by all the time
Are musicien, artist painters
or often comedians.
The men who are passing by, mother
Offer me always a lovely room
With a deck, mother
The men who are passing by I feel
That their heart's on low tide
Desires like an ocean.
The men who are passing by, yet
I would like to steal one
For a month for a year
The men who are passing by, mother
They give me nothing more than money.
The men who are passing by, mother
Their love nights are stars
Who leave traces, mother
The men who are passing by, violent
Are always the ones who kept
A childish heart, losing.
The men who are passing by, mother
Have a smile that look a little
Like grimaces, mother
The men who are passing by disturbing
Leave me always with my dreams
And my earlier fears.