That’s how many days, that’s how many nights,

That’s how long you’re gone,

You told me this time, it is the last trip,

For our hearts torn, this is the last wreck

In spring, you’ll see, I’ll be back,

Spring is nice to talk about love,

We’ll see all the gardens blossoming,

And wander down the streets of Paris,

Say, when will you come back,

Hey, at least you know,

That all the time that passes,

Does little catching up,

That all the time lost,

Only makes up more,

Spring has long since fled,

Crack dead leaves, wood burning fires,

To see Paris so beautiful in late autumn,

Suddenly I languid, I dream, I shiver,

I pitched, I capsize, and as the old song,

I go, I come, I turn, I turn, I crawl,

Your image haunts me, I speak softly,

And I love the evil, and I have a lot of you,

Say, when will you come back,

Hey, at least you know,

That all the time that passes,

Does little catching up,

That all the time lost,

Only makes up more,

I’m still loving you, I’m loving you always,

I’m not loving you, I’m loving you love,

If you do not understand that you must return

I will make both of us my fondest memories,

I take the road, I marvel at the world,

I shall go to another warm sun,

I am not of those who die of grief,

I have not the virtue of women sailors,

Say, when will you come back,

Hey, at least you know,

That all the time that passes,

Does little catching up,

That all the time lost,

Only makes up more

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