This is the story
of
Melody Nelson
Who, other than this man right here,
Took in her arms no other loves.
You think that's weak
But that's how it was.

She used to have love,
poor
Melody Nelson.
She used to have above a ton.
But now her days are just numbers
Fourteen autumns
Fifteen summers.

A little animal,
that
Melody Nelson.
An adorable urchin
A most delicious infant
That I knew then
For but a moment.

Oh, my melody,
my
Melody Nelson.
A delightful vagabond.
You were the only condition,
Sine qua non,
Of my reason.

The Rolls wings are slightly touching the pylons
When, realizing I was lost, we arrived, me and my Rolls,
in a dangerous and isolated place.

On the hood of the 1910 Silver Ghost
the radiator silver Venus is my guide
with her light veils.

Arrogant, contemptuous, while the radio is blaring over the silent engine,
her sight on the horizon, she's ignoring the pavement I'm hitting.

Alleys, culs de sac with no parking,
her heart is indifferent, she's in charge of
my 26 horse engine.

Prince of darkness, cursed archangel,
A modern style amazon whom the sculptor nicknamed "spirit of ecstasy."

As you can imagine,
I was daydreaming before loosing control of the Rolls.
I was driving slowly when a violent shock put me back on earth!
Shit!

I could see a wheel that kept on turning
And a doll-like girl who lost her balance,
her skirt hitched up, revealing white panties.

What's your name?
Melody.
Melody what?
Melody Nelson.
Melody Nelson is a red hair
and that's her real hair color....