Liebeschen!
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I once had an entanglement of sorts with a caballero who was very fond of the see. As he and my fascinating self went on a promenade along the seaside, he kept looking at la mer with so much passion that I thought, un jour il va se transformer dans un bateâu of some sort and sail away. Presto! Ce jour est arrivé. One day the whole mairie de Pouqueville became startled at the gentleman's disappearance. He was never again to be seen. No explanation. Not even a billet, doux or otherwise. Il s'en allait tout simplement. Dear Anastasia Romanov wouldn't have done a better job. I still think abou ce monsieur with some perplexity. Dans mes rêves, I see him on the horizon each time I spot a ship. Sometimes I think of asking the seagulls if they know his whereabouts. But I quickly change my mind, lest I'd have to handle Herr Von Prinzeregentstrassefahradgeschäft's jealousy of sorts, which would certainly not fail in turning the usually pleasant task of embarking with mein herr on a dancing-around-the-saloon Por Una Cabeza routine into something my fascinating self would not like to remember later on.
I could never, in my wildest dreams expect the experience to repeat itself. And yet, and yet ...
Mein liebe gott, comme je suis sûre, I don't have to tell you what my feelings are for Don Montebanco, that dearest of friends. Ah, comme j'ai besoin de lui. Quand je suis avec lui, mon coeur s'ouvre à sa voix. Le ciel seems to be plus bleu, plus beau, plus tangible. Even the clouds appear to be dancing to the tune of Yira, Yira,. I cannot envisage life without Don Montebanco, that dearest of friends. And yet, and yet ...
He's vanished!! True, he's always been inscrutable, besides elusive, on top of being reclusive. But this is different. He's vanished most completely. He doesn't respond to messages. He's never online. He doesn't write in his own livre des jours ... He appears to have gone, tout comme ça, to the other side of the moon.
I have made up my mind. Herr Von Prinzeregentstrassefahradgeschäft or no Herr Von Prinzeregentstrassefahradgeschäf, I shalst ask the seagulls if they know the whereabouts of meine liebe Don Montebanco. Unless amongst you readers of my livre des jours il-y-a quelqun que me puisse dire what happened to him.
Ah, le chagrin ...
I once had an entanglement of sorts with a caballero who was very fond of the see. As he and my fascinating self went on a promenade along the seaside, he kept looking at la mer with so much passion that I thought, un jour il va se transformer dans un bateâu of some sort and sail away. Presto! Ce jour est arrivé. One day the whole mairie de Pouqueville became startled at the gentleman's disappearance. He was never again to be seen. No explanation. Not even a billet, doux or otherwise. Il s'en allait tout simplement. Dear Anastasia Romanov wouldn't have done a better job. I still think abou ce monsieur with some perplexity. Dans mes rêves, I see him on the horizon each time I spot a ship. Sometimes I think of asking the seagulls if they know his whereabouts. But I quickly change my mind, lest I'd have to handle Herr Von Prinzeregentstrassefahradgeschäft's jealousy of sorts, which would certainly not fail in turning the usually pleasant task of embarking with mein herr on a dancing-around-the-saloon Por Una Cabeza routine into something my fascinating self would not like to remember later on.
I could never, in my wildest dreams expect the experience to repeat itself. And yet, and yet ...
Mein liebe gott, comme je suis sûre, I don't have to tell you what my feelings are for Don Montebanco, that dearest of friends. Ah, comme j'ai besoin de lui. Quand je suis avec lui, mon coeur s'ouvre à sa voix. Le ciel seems to be plus bleu, plus beau, plus tangible. Even the clouds appear to be dancing to the tune of Yira, Yira,. I cannot envisage life without Don Montebanco, that dearest of friends. And yet, and yet ...
He's vanished!! True, he's always been inscrutable, besides elusive, on top of being reclusive. But this is different. He's vanished most completely. He doesn't respond to messages. He's never online. He doesn't write in his own livre des jours ... He appears to have gone, tout comme ça, to the other side of the moon.
I have made up my mind. Herr Von Prinzeregentstrassefahradgeschäft or no Herr Von Prinzeregentstrassefahradgeschäf, I shalst ask the seagulls if they know the whereabouts of meine liebe Don Montebanco. Unless amongst you readers of my livre des jours il-y-a quelqun que me puisse dire what happened to him.
Ah, le chagrin ...