Lyrics:

The belle of St. Mark was a fair but a passionate creature
Ebony hair and eyes of deep blue-green
The belle of St. Mark wore clothes that belonged to his father
Even though he was only a mere seventeen

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 undoubtably serious
I must 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 blows in the warm Parisian air
It blows whenever his Paris hair is there
The woman who hurt him surely must have trouble sleeping
'Cause the belle of St. Mark is a beauty extraordinaire

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

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

And if he doesn't love me I think I'll probably die
And if he don't, I'll die