Lon la.
Love, when thou gleamest in the dark
thou crownest Lola with roses,
I would lose my soul for that.
Where fair maids go.
Lon la.
Jeanne, at thy mirror thou deckest thyself!
One fine day, my heart flew forth.
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Lon la.
Love, when thou gleamest in the dark
thou crownest Lola with roses,
I would lose my soul for that.
Where fair maids go.
Lon la.
Jeanne, at thy mirror thou deckest thyself!
One fine day, my heart flew forth.