Have you seen my lover? Have you? Have you?
He wasn’t tall, he wasn’t fair…no, his eyes weren’t blue
Said he wouldn’t be long
Said he’d be back by morning first
And in my arms he left me
Son chemise batiste

He read in the morning, he painted by night
I woke to see him in the morning light
He wasn’t there
But hanging perfect and uncreased
On the back of the wooded chair
Son chemise batiste

My days seem without color
I walk the streets in their squalor
“Jolie jeune fille”, they say
“Pourquoi si triste?”
But all I can see is
Son chemise batiste

“L’oublier!” They say, “He was no good”
They say he got what was coming, just like he should
He was a thief, a liar, homme mauvais
A vagabond, a ruffian from the East
I refuse to believe it, he will come back
Pour son chemise batiste

Have you seen my lover? Have you? have you?
They took him to the gallows, he swung till his face turned blue
Said he did not scream
Said he grinned like a beast
I pack my bags, I head for the East
Leaving behind son chemise batiste

-Chiseche

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