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!