Текст песни Дама Крести - Пигаль

One has only to light up the Boulevard de Clichy at night,
The mill winds its wings, and you are already asleep.
The smell of cocaine sex is all over Paris
And I go there alone, intimacy is inevitable.

Beckons with its substitute for happiness
Pigalle teases, glistening with silver.
Moulin Rouge burns with a flame of passion
It smells like rubber and charcoal.

These walls will not hear a word of love
They only feed on groans and sweat,
Who, having paid someone a dirty job,
I isolate, tearing my veins.

Beckons with its substitute for happiness
Pigalle teases, glistening with silver.
Moulin Rouge burns with a flame of passion
It smells like rubber and charcoal.