Françoise Hardy
TINY GODDESS
Paroles et musique: Spyropoulos, Singer, Campbell-Lyons, 1968


Tiny goddess wrapped in lace
That certain smile upon your face
Is telling me what's to be when he leaves
In a room just five foot eight
I sit alone and I will wait
To hear from him, to wait for him to call me

Don't let him humour me
With letters I won't read
Please sympathise with me
If only you could speak

Photograph that's in my case
Will travel with me every place
Reminding me
What to be for his love
Orchards smell of sweet perfume
The mountain side is now in bloom
And I am here
Waiting for his company

Don't let him humour me
With letters I won't read
The clock's at half past three
It's stopped awake like me

Tiny goddess wrapped in lace
That certain smile upon your face
Is telling me what's to be when he leaves
In a room just five foot eight
I sit alone and I will wait
To hear from him, to wait for him to call me


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