Cry because you're young,
Governments and gifts,
Hearts are in our mouths.
Thank you for the voice,
Thank you for the eyes,
Thank you for the good times.
Golden guns and cars,
Styles and motorcades,
In screaming beauty days.

Ma son, warm land, semi-monde.
Ma son, warm land, semi-monde.

Only winds that twist,
When white money calls,
Falling here from grace,
White-eye movement trust.
Parades are leaving town,
When boys of Venice call,
In all stations trust,
In all stations soul,
Sons and fascination.

Ma son, warm lands, semi-monde,
Ma son, warm lands, semi-monde.