Paroles
Can I tell you about a man on Albian Street?
By nature this man is very mean
He owns a row of houses
With matching beds of flowers
He tells me that he loves me in his sleep
Oh when I wind him up he goes and goes
Well he's a real man's man
And a poet behind closed doors
Oh well he's a gentleman
He's a gentleman that's for sure
Oh when he spins me around the kitchen
Piroutte pulls me to him
And bends me like a flower in the sun
And when he goes I'm gonna miss him
And I'm staring at the ceiling
And I keep on coming down, I'm coming down
And can I tell you about a man that doesn't say much
Doesn't speak with his words
But he speaks with his touch
Oh and when he spins me around
I keep on spinning 'round
When I get so high
And I keep on coming down
Oh he's a gentleman
He's a gentleman that's for sure
Oh when he spins me around the kitchen
Piroutte pulls me to him
And bends me like a flower in the sun
And when he goes I'm gonna miss him
And I'm staring at the ceiling
And I keep on coming down, I'm coming down
So shut the door and call the station
Go and tell them that we're missing
While we're dancing in our private world
When he's spinning me 'round
He's a gentleman that's for sure
He's my gentleman
He's my gentleman
Oh, oh, oh
He's me gentleman
Ohhh-----
He's my gentleman