I’d like to tell you all a little story
About a girl who liked to live the glory
Being part of the music
Drinking peperina tea
She was a small-time girl, plain to see
Never could handle all the officine
With this narrow mind
Routine ideology
New romantic bands became a part of her career
As she whispered one into my agency-a
I love you, I hate you, give me more
Looking at the spirit she’d forget about her
Looking at the rich man she’d recite like a beggar
Just to discover all the gossips in the neighbourhood
Now she was different in her own mind
Not like the rest you know, but one of a kind
And she loved to watch all the faces of the people she’d find
And in her own world she was a kind of Cinderella
He then was a hippie, who was her principela
I love you, I hate you, give me more
She worked in all of the concerts
Spent her whole life writing postcards
She’s with all of the loners
You know who try to bone her
From Argentina to Paris
Falopa for everybody
I love you, I hate you, give me more
I love you, I hate you, give me more
I love you, I hate you, give me more!
