Stars That Speak - Willy DeVille

There’s a park somewhere

Maybe in new york maybe in paris

Maybe in barcelona

Early in the morning

There is the artist

The creator

With a small black beret

A cane

And a small back dog

In the twilight of his life

Sees his work

And he feels

There stands the woman of his dreams

His love made in stone

Time is so short now

She has her arms outstretched

Opened

Looking at the stars all through the day

And longing for the night

She feels

She looks up at the stars

And prays

I would do anything

To be a real woman

Of flesh of love

And of that life i long for so

So the stars give her the night

Warning her do not touch

Or they will die

The next morning

Walking his dog

With a cane in his hand

The artist, he looks up

Sees a woman entwined

With what looks like a man

Wrapped there together

He said my creation, my creation

That’s a woman and that’s a man

That’s a woman and that’s a man

My creation

That’s a woman

And that’s a man