The Belle of St. Mark - Sheila E

The belle of St. Mark was a frail but passionate creature

Ebony hair and eyes a deep blue-green

The belle of St. Mark wore clothes that belonged to his father

Even though he was only 17

I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love with the belle of St. Mark

It tears me apart whenever I hear him cry

I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love with the belle of St. Mark

And if he doesn’t love me I think I’ll probably die

You can tell from expressions that he makes public

That he suffers from a badly broken heart

He smiles as he feeds the afternoon pigeons

But he cries as he walks the night streets of St. Mark

I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love with the belle of St. Mark

It tears me apart whenever I hear him cry

I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love with the belle of St. Mark

And if he doesn’t love me I think I’ll probably die

The belle of St. Mark, he don’t talk to strangers, he’s so mysterious

His erotic persuasion provokes me like no other man

The fire I have for him is undoubtedly serious

I need to make him see that he needs love to forget

And if anyone can help him, I can

I can help, I can help you

His Paris hair, it blows in the warm Parisian air

That blows whenever his Paris hair is there

The woman that hurt him surely must have trouble sleeping

'Cause the belle of St. Mark is a beauty extraordinaire

Oh, I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love with the belle of St. Mark

It tears me apart whenever I hear him cry

I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love with the belle of St. Mark

And if he doesn’t love me I think I’ll probably die

Ooh, I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love with the belle of St. Mark

It tears me apart whenever I hear him cry

Ooh, I’m in love, I’m in love, I’m in love with the belle of St. Mark

And if he doesn’t love me I think I’ll probably die

And if he doesn’t love me I think I’ll probably die

And if he don’t, I’ll die