I want to tell you a story,
about a little man,
if I can,
and only crumble,
crumble,
that don't know, stay in their home,
eating,
sleeping,
drinking their wine.

He wore a scarlet tunic,
a blue-green hood,
it looked white, and he had a big adventure.

Mr.

Grosse, my share at last,
winding,
winding,
winding this time.

And one day,
away,
another way, for no one to say.

Look at the sky,
look at the river,
isn't it quiet?,
Look at the sky,
look at the river,
isn't it good?,
Winding,
winding,
places go.

And then one day,
away,
another way,
for no one to say.