My man is the real thing, A hard, brutal man. I see death up close, in the burning embers of his eyes.
He does to me what nobody dares, He covers my body with bruises. He strikes me, he gives me black eyes, he makes my life "la vie en bleu".
My man kicks me around, But there is no one else like him. It's no laughing matter, three hundred and twenty pounds and a half of him that it takes my breath away, never to return. He is a barbarian, he is cruel, My Attila Marcel
I will find his virtues, with the help of God's mean right hand. and I'll remain stunned until easter in the abused fool's paradise
My man is the real thing, A hard, brutal man, Very soon I will see death up close, in the burning embers of his eyes.