ANIMAL ON EST MAL by GÉRARD MANSET

FRENCH POP LYRICS: LES GARÇONS PART 3

Gérard Manset is a slightly mysterious figure who has developed a cult following as a singer-songwriter in France. He never gives concerts and rarely appears on television, which has added to his mystique. He first recorded in the late 1960s, but apparently he hates his early recordings, and for this reason they have never appeared on CD.

This excellent track was a single in 1968. The wild lyrics contain a lot of wordplay that makes them difficult to translate. The song also appears on Manset’s first album, which is an intriguing set of dark songs with touches of psychedelia and impressive orchestral arrangements.

ANIMAL ON EST MAL Animal, on est mal On a le dos couvert d'écailles On sent la paille Dans la faille Et quand on ouvre la porte Un armée de cloportes Vous repousse en criant "Ici, pas de serpent !" Animal, on est mal. Animal, on est mal. Animal, on est mal. On a deux cornes placées Sur le devant du nez On s'abaisse On s'affaisse On a la queue qui frise On a la peau épaisse On a la peau grise Et quand on veut sortir Avec une demoiselle On l'invite à dîner Quand elle vous voit Que dit-elle ? "Il ne vous manque qu'une bosse. Vade retro, rhinocéros !" Animal, on est mal Animal, on est mal Animal, on est mal On assiste à l'opération de la girafe La voilà qui se retrouve le cou plein d'agrafes Elle appelle au secours On veut lui mettre un pantalon Mais il est trop court Animal, on est mal On pond ses oeufs dans le sable Et quand on passe à table Les chevaux-vapeurs Ont pris peur De se retrouver loin de leur étable Animal, on est mal Animal, on est mal Animal, on est mal Et si l'on ne se conduit pas bien On revivra peut-être dans un peau d'un humain Animal, on est mal Animal, on est mal Et Dieu reconnaîtra les siens...

ANIMAL, WE ARE SICK Animal, we are sick Our backs are covered with scales We can smell the straw In the crack And when we open the door5 An army of woodlice Pushes you back, shouting "No snakes allowed here!" Animal, we are sick Animal, we are sick Animal, we're bad. We have two horns On the front of our nose We stoop We slouch Our tails curl We've got thick skin We've got grey skin And when you want to take A lady out You invite her to dinner And when she sees you What does she say? "All you're missing is a hump. Go retro rhinoceros!" Animal, we are sick Animal, we are sick Animal, we are sick We assist in the giraffe's operation Its neck is full of staples It calls out for help We want to put it in trousers But they're too short Animal, we are sick You lay your eggs in the sand And when we come to the table The steam horses Are afraid to be Too far from their stable Animal, we are sick Animal, we are sick Animal, we are sick And if we don't behave Maybe we will live again in human skin Animal, we are sick Animal, we are sick And God will recognise his own...

ÇA M’EST ÉGAL by MAURICE CHEVALIER

The Year 1928: Part 2 (France)

Here is another amusing song from Maurice Chevalier, one of the biggest French stars of the decade.

NB This great translation is by Ilona Kemény at Lyrics Translate.

ÇA M'EST ÉGAL Il y a, j’en connais, Des tas d’ gens qui jamais N’achètent rien sans vouloir un rabais Ce n’est pas mon travers Et l’objet que j’acquiers Je le paye son prix même s’il est trop cher On peut m’empiler On peut me voler Ça m’est égal Sans demander combien Je n’ marchande rien Ça m’est égal Chez le bijoutier Chez le tailleur ou le bottier Je paye sans effort Même si on m’ fait le prix fort On m’ fait un bibelot Dix fois ce qu’il vaut Ça m’est égal Veut-on m’écorcher? J’ veux bien les lâcher Ça m’est égal Je fais mes paiements Royalement, oui mais seulement J’envoie les factures à papa Alors moi, n’est-ce pas, Ça m’est égal Sur le quai Malaquais L’autre jour, je flânais Suivi d’un gros caniche qui trottinait Comme ses poils étaient longs Un tondeur, près d’un pont, Me dit "Voulez-vous que j’ le tonde en lion?" Tondez-le en lion Ou bien en mouton Ça m’est égal Faites-en un griffon Vous savez dans l’ fond Ça m’est égal Faites-le en danois En épagneul, en pékinois Coupez-lui la queue Si vous trouvez que ça fait mieux Vous pouvez l’ raser Et même le friser Ça m’est égal Lui faire une friction Une ondulation Ça m’est égal Si c’est plus joli Faites-lui une mise en plis Car, comme ce chien n’est pas à moi Faites n’importe quoi Ça m’est égal!

I DON'T MIND I know quite a lot of people who never buy anything without seeking a discount That’s not how I do things And for the object I’m acquiring I’ll pay full price even if it’s too much You can trick me You can steal from me I don’t mind I never ask how much And I haggle for nothing I don’t mind At the jeweler’s At the tailor’s or the bootmaker’s I’ll pay without complaint Even if I’m made to pay dearly I had me a trinket made For ten times what it’s worth I don’t mind You want to skin me alive? I’m happy to let it go I don’t mind I make my payments Completely, yes, but solely I send all the bills to daddy Therefore me, am I right? I don’t mind On the quai Malaquais I was strolling the other day While a big poodle trotted after me My my, its hair was long A shearer near a bridge asked me “do you want me to shave him into a lion?” Shave him into a lion Or even a sheep I don’t mind Make him a griffin You know that deep down I don’t mind Do it in Danish or in Spanish, or Pekingese You can cut off his tail If you think that suits him better You can shave him Or even give him curls I don’t mind Give him a little rub Or a little wave I don’t mind If it’ll look nicer Give him a cut and shampoo Because this dog isn’t mine Do as you like I don’t mind!

BABY BOUM by BUZY

FRENCH POP LYRICS

The French pop singer Buzy, who has already featured a couple of times on this blog, died in November last year.

Buzy was a star in the 1980s, with her videos mixing cinematic ambition and French raunchiness. A similar formula would turn Mylène Farmer into a superstar. However, at the end of the decade Buzy’s career went into decline, though she continued to record albums. This single was released in 1987. RIP Buzy.

BABY BOUM Entre Madrid, Berlin Vivre dans les capitales de la nuit Compte à rebours, vivre pour l'amour3 Amour, bruit et vitesse Baby Boum aime bien Les morsures du destin Baby Boum Se fout de tout sauf de l'amour Et même au bord de la détresse Sublime, fragile, Comme une sculpture émotive De Miro à Warhol Baby Boum aime bien Vivre son destin Baby Boum Se fout de tout sauf de l'amour Entre Madrid, Berlin Errance sans alibi Voyage au bout de la nuit Baby Boum caresse Amour, bruit et vitesse.

BABY BOOM Between Madrid, Berlin Living in the capitals of the night Countdown, living for love3 Love, noise and speed Baby Boom likes it The bites of destiny Baby Boom Doesn't care about anything except love And even on the verge of distress Sublime, fragile, Like an emotional sculpture From Miro to Warhol Baby Boom likes it Live your destiny Baby Boom Doesn't care about anything except love Between Madrid, Berlin Wandering without an alibi Journeying to the edge of the night Baby Boom embraces Love, noise and speed

LES GARÇONS by JAQUES DUTRONC & FRANÇOISE HARDY

FRENCH POP LYRICS: LES GARÇONS PART 2

With Antoine losing interest in music (see Part 1), the way was open for Jacques Dutronc to become the coolest French rock singer of the second half of the sixties. He has already featured several times on this blog, so click on the relevant tab to see more of his songs.

For some reason he rarely duetted with his partner Françoise Hardy, but I have found a clip of them singing together in October 1966. Appropriately enough for this series, the song is called “Les Garçons”. The lyrics make references to “Les Play-Boys” and “Et moi, et moi, et moi”, a couple of Dutronc’s hits from earlier in the year.

LES GARÇONS FH: = Françoise Hardy JD: = Jacques Dutronc FH: Moi je n'aime pas les play-boys J'aime les garçons, les garçons JD: Tu aimes les garçons Les garçons de cafe Les garçons coiffeurs Les garçons de bureau Les garçons d'ascenseur Les garçons Lazare FH: Non, j'aime les garçons Tout court Les garçons qui aiment bien les filles Et toi, et toi, et toi? JD: Et bien moi Moi j'aime lesfilles Toutes les filles Les filles de joie Les filles à soldats Les filles mères Les filles publiques Les filles à couper le beurre Les filles, les filles, les filles L'amour est un jeu de quilles FH: Les garçons, les garçons, les garçons L'amour est une espèce de hérisson JD: Qui s'y frotte s'y pique FH: Mais c'est tellement fantastique!

THE BOYS FH: = Françoise Hardy JD: = Jacques Dutronc FH: I don't like playboys I like boys, boys JD: You like boys Cafe boys Hairdresser boys Office boys Lift boys Lazarus boys FH: No, I like boys Simply Boys who like girls And you, and you, and you? JD: And me as well I like girls All the girls Happy girls Soldiers' girls Mothers' girls Public girls Girls are the best thing since sliced bread Girls, girls, girls Love is like playing bowls FH: Boys, boys, boys Love is a kind of hedgehog JD: If you go looking for trouble you'll find it FH: But it's totally fantastic!

JE DIS CE QUE JE PENSE ET JE VIS COMME JE VEUX by ANTOINE

FRENCH POP LYRICS: LES GARÇONS PART 1

There have been lots of yé-yé girls on this site, so I guess it’s time to give the boys a chance. This is the start of a short series about young French male singers in the second half of the 1960s. Whether or not they qualify as yé-yé is a highly debatable point, but they certainly played their part in 1960s pop.

Antoine released his first single in 1965, and his acoustic style led to comparisons with Donovan. In 1966 he teamed up with the band Les Problemes and recorded this brilliant single, which brings to mind Bob Dylan’s folk-rock period.

Antoine quickly became a star, and he developed a rivalry with Johnny Hallyday, ‘the French Elvis’, who he ‘puts in a cage’ in the lyrics of this song. Antoine’s long hair was a hot topic of conversation, and he even became the subject of the parody single “My Name Is Edouard” by Edouard, where he is portrayed as a long haired caveman!

The album ‘Antoine Rencontre Les Problèmes’ (‘Antoine Meets The Problems’, 1966) is a bit of a con, since Antoine only appears on the first and last tracks, with the remaining songs performed by Les Problèmes without him. Without the band Antoine started to lose his musical direction, and in 1969 he quit music, preferring to spend his time sailing around the world.

JE DIS CE QUE JE PENSE ET JE VIS COMME JE VEUX Je dis ce que je pense, je vis comme je veux Je gagne beaucoup d’argent, mais quand j’en avais peu Je n’étais pas plus malheureux, oui mais Je n’étais pas plus heureux Je suis comme ça pour moi, pas pour vous Comprenez-le Je dis ce que je pense, je vis comme je veux Je mets Johnny en cage, je n’aime pas Edith Mathieu Que vous importe mes cheveux J’ai les chemises que je veux Je fais tout ça pour moi pas pour vous Comprenez-le Je dis ce que je pense, je vis comme je veux La fidélité et moi, croyez-moi, ça fait deux Chaque soir m’amène une fille Chaque matin nous voit repartir Je suis comme ça pour moi, pas pour vous Comprenez-le Je dis ce que je pense, je vis comme je veux Je dis ce que je pense, je vis comme je veux Je dis ce que je... veux Je dis ce que je pense, ce que je veux Je dis ce que je pense, je vis comme je veux Ce que je veux, ce que je pense Et merde!

I SAY WHAT I THINK AND I LIVE THE WAY I WANT I say what I think, I live the way I want I make a lot of money, but when I didn't have much I wasn't unhappier, but I wasn't happier either It's like that for me, not for you Understand? I say what I think, I live the way I want I put Johnny in a cage, I don't like Edith Mathieu Why do you care about my hair? I wear the shirts I want I do all this for me, not for you Understand? I say what I think, I live the way I want Fidelity and me, believe me, are two Every night brings me a girl Every morning we part It's like that for me, not for you Understand? I say what I think, I live the way I want I say what I think, I live the way I want I say what I... want I say what I think, what I want I say what I think, I live the way I want What I want, what I think And damn it!

NB I guess Edith Mathieu is a joke, combining the singers Edith Piaf and Mireille Mathieu.

RÊVES by RAVEL

The Year 1927: Part 2 (France)

Here is another song by Ravel, who we saw back in 1924. The text by the symbolist poet Léon-Paul Fargue (1876-1947) is quite challenging to translate.

RÊVES Un enfant court autour des marbres Une voix sourd des hauts parages Les yeux si graves de ceux qui t'aiment Songent et passent entre les arbres Aux grandes orgues de quelque gare Gronde la vague des vieux départs Dans un vieux rêve au pays vague Des choses brèves qui meurent sages

DREAMS A child runs around the marble statues A voice rising from high above The tender eyes of those who love you Dream and pass between the trees To the great organs of some railway station Rumbling waves of great departures In an old dream in a misty landscape The brief things that die wiser

JANE B. by JANE BIRKIN

FRENCH POP LYRICS

Jane Birkin, who died a few days ago aged 76, will always be associated with Serge Gainsbourg, not least for their worldwide hit “Je t’aime… moi non plus” (1969).

In a way he created the ultimate yé-yé girl, combining the Lolita-eque charms of France Gall with the sex bomb raunchiness of Brigitte Bardot, both of whom he had previously guided to pop success. However, Birkin was no puppet. She was older, smarter and more worldly than she looked, already a divorced single mother. Arguably she was the last yé-yé girl, marking the end of the 1960s and anticipating the much more knowing and cynical 1970s. This track was the B-side of “Je t’aime”. Like many of Gainsbourg’s songs it borrows from classical music, in this case Chopin’s Prelude, Op. 28, No. 4 in E Minor.

Translation by Gavin on Lyrics Translate.

JANE B. Signalement Yeux bleus Cheveux châtains Jane B. Anglaise De sexe féminin Âge : entre vingt et vingt et un Apprend le dessin Domiciliée chez ses parents Yeux bleus Cheveux châtains Jane B. Teint pâle, le nez aquilin Portée disparue ce matin À cinq heures moins vingt Yeux bleus Cheveux châtains Jane B. Tu dors au bord du chemin Une fleur de sang à la main

JANE B. Particulars Blue eyes Chestnut hair Jane B. English Sex, female Age: between twenty and twenty one Studying drawing Living with her parents Blue eyes Chestnut hair Jane B. Pale complexion, aquiline nose Reported missing this morning At twenty to five Blue eyes Chestnut hair Jane B. You sleep at the side of the road A flower of blood at your hand

STELLA: Biography/Biographie

FRENCH POP LYRICS

This is adapted from an interview with Stella by ‘Pink Frankenstein’ from 2003. I am putting it here because the ‘Chachacharming’ website it was originally on has disappeared.

Stella Zelcer was born in Paris on the 12th of December 1950, and she spent her formative years palling around with her uncle Maurice Chorenslup, who took her to museums and movies, and introduced her to music, particularly jazz and American pop. Stella was 13 years old when yé-yé exploded in France. Just for fun, Uncle Maurice and Stella decided to write some songs and send the demos to Disques Vogue.

“My uncle and I poked fun at the French yé-yé songs – we thought they were more funny than serious. So we started writing songs to capture that irony. He said, ‘You sing because it looks like singing comes easy to you.’ So I sang and he played guitar. We made a demo and sent it to the record company closest to where we were living. We didn’t search for the biggest or best record company, just the nearest one.”

Soon they met with Jacques Wolfsohn, the man responsible for signing Johnny Hallyday, Françoise Hardy, and Jacques Dutronc. “He was very nice to me. I was only 13 years old, you know. I didn’t know anything. He wanted to release my songs, so I liked him.”

In November 1963 Disques Vogue issued Stella’s first EP, which included “Pourquoi Pas Moi”. Musically the song echoed Françoise Hardy’s early records, possibly because the two Vogue artists used the arranger Roger Samyn.

In 1965 Stella moved to RCA Victor, where she worked with producer Gerard Hugé. “Gerard was listening to a lot of Phil Spector at the time, and we got along because we were on the same wavelength. He was also into the idea of exploring different sounds”.

In 1966 Stella released “Un air du folklore Auvergnat”, a spoof on “Le Folklore Américain” by yé-yé singer Sheila. “Sheila was singing about American music, but I thought we should be singing about France, so I made the same kind of song with French roots. We had such great French songs. Brel and Brassens and all those people were writing fantastic music. I thought that we should be writing music like them rather than taking American songs and translating them into French”. The song was her biggest success, but the sarcastic patriotism of the lyrics created controversy: “The Auvergnat Association of Paris took the song quite seriously, and managed to have me banned from French radio and TV. Major articles appeared everywhere in the press. It was completely crazy, but it helped me get famous.”

Before Stella’s first gig at the Paris Olympia, a difference of opinions caused some friction between Stella and her record company. “The label had hired this big orchestra to play behind me, but I didn’t want such an orchestra. I wanted to have my band: a bass player, drummer, and guitar player so that we could have a sound that resembled my records. The label didn’t want to pay the musicians, so I remember using my paltry royalty fees to pay the musicians myself. But then the label stuck the band behind the curtain, and it ended up just looking like an orchestra with a singer. I really didn’t like that. I wanted them to be onstage with me. That caused a major problem.”

In the early part of her career, Stella was happy to hand over the reigns to the record company, but things changed as she grew into a more confident, savvy artist. “As a I tried to change and write music that was a bit more serious, things became complicated. I didn’t mind keeping the same lyric style, but I was getting tired of the same music. I recorded my last record in 1967, and that record really sounded different – a bit like Herbie Hancock’s Maiden Voyage. But it didn’t fit with the record company’s vision for me, and that’s when I knew it was time. I was playing guitar, flute, piano… I always saw myself as a musician, even though most people at that time wanted to be singers, which is completely different in my opinion. I mean, a singer is a musician of course, but singers are usually not very interested in the writing or the musical direction. So that’s when I stopped. I wasn’t even 17 yet, but I just said ‘Ok, pfft. Leave it.’ ”

This is not completely true, as she actually released a couple of pop singles on CBS in 1968. After that she joined a blues-rock band, but had a hard time finding gigs: “At the time, a girl playing guitar didn’t look serious. So I took up the flute instead – more appropriate for a girl. Ha!” Then she met Christian Vander and joined the prog-rock band Magma, but that’s another story. Let’s end this article with Stella remembering her yé-yé days.

“Instead of going to school everyday, I went to Monte Carlo, or Geneva to perform on TV. It was great fun, but as I grew older I began to realize what show business was really made of, and I didn’t like what I saw. Pop, you know, it’s all said in that word.”

LES ROSES BLANCHES by BERTHE SYLVA

The Year 1926: Part 2 (France)

This was one of the biggest French hits of 1926 and it helped Berthe Sylva to become a star. Born in 1885 to a working class family, she had already had a colourful career, including a stint working in Algiers, before her breakthrough with “Les roses blanches”. Despite her success many of the most prestigious venues of the time shunned her, though the reasons for this are not clear. Apparently, many of her fans were teenage girls and there are (hard to confirm) stories about her audiences rioting. Whatever the truth is, it’s clear that she had the ability to move both concertgoers and record buyers.

LES ROSES BLANCHES C'était un gamin, un gosse de Paris Pour famille il n'avait que sa mère Une pauvre fille aux grands yeux rougis Par les chagrins et la misère Elle aimait les fleurs, les roses surtout Et le bambin, tous les dimanches Lui apportait de belles roses blanches Au lieu d'acheter des joujoux La câlinant bien tendrement Il disait en les lui donnant : C'est aujourd'hui dimanche Tiens, ma jolie maman Voici des roses blanches Toi qui les aimes tant Va, quand je serai grand J'achèterai au marchand Toutes ses roses blanches Pour toi, jolie maman. Au printemps dernier, le destin brutal Vint frapper la blonde ouvrière Elle tomba malade et pour l'hôpital Le gamin vit partir sa mère Un matin d'avril, parmi les promeneurs N'ayant plus un sou dans sa poche Sur un marché, tout tremblant le pauvre mioche Furtivement vola des fleurs La marchande l'ayant surpris En baissant la tête il lui dit : C'est aujourd'hui dimanche Et j'allais voir maman J'ai pris ces roses blanches Elle les aime tant Sur son petit lit blanc Là-bas elle m'attend J'ai pris ces roses blanches Pour ma jolie maman. La marchande émue, doucement lui dit : Emporte-les, je te les donne Elle l'embrassa et l'enfant partit Tout rayonnant qu'on le pardonne Puis à l'hôpital il vint en courant Pour offrir les fleurs à sa mère Mais en le voyant, tout bas une infirmière Lui dit : tu n'as plus de maman Et le gamin s'agenouillant Dit, devant le petit lit blanc : C'est aujourd'hui dimanche Tiens, ma jolie maman Voici des roses blanches Toi qui les aimais tant ! Et quand tu t'en iras Au grand jardin, là-bas Toutes ces roses blanches Tu les emporteras.

THE WHITE ROSES There was a boy, a kid from Paris For family he only had his mother A poor girl with big eyes Reddened by sorrows and misery She liked flowers, particularly roses And the child, every Sunday Brought her beautiful white roses Instead of buying toys Hugging her very tenderly He said while giving them to her: Today is Sunday Here, my pretty mummy Here are the white roses Which you like so much See, when I'm grown up I'm going to buy from the shopkeeper All of his white roses For you, pretty mummy Last spring, brutal destiny Struck the blonde worker She fell ill and into hospital The boy saw his mother leave On an April morning, among the walkers Not having a single penny in his pocket At a market, the poor kid, trembling all over Furtively stole the flowers The shopkeeper caught him by surprise Lowering his head he said to her: Today is Sunday And I went to see mummy I took these white roses She likes them so much On her little white bed She's waiting for me I took these white roses For my pretty mummy Touched, the shopkeeper said to him gently: Take them, I'm giving them to you She kissed him and the child left Radiant because he had been forgiven Then he came running into the hospital To offer the flowers to his mother But seeing him, in a whisper a nurse Said to him: You don't have a mummy anymore And the kid, kneeling down Said in front of the little white bed: Today is Sunday Here, my pretty mummy Here are the white roses Which you liked so much! And when you go To the great garden, over there You will take all the white roses With you

VALENTINE by MAURICE CHEVALIER

The Year 1925: Part 2 (France)

We looked at Maurice Chevalier’s first hit back in 1921, but it was this number from 1925 that became his signature song. He was already a star by this time and his relationship with Mistinguett had made them the great French pop couple of their era. In their own way they were just as cool as Françoise Hardy and Jacques Dutronc would be forty years later.

The lyrics are a bit risque, particularly the bit about Valentine’s tétons (breasts). When the song featured in the US movies “Innocents of Paris” (1928) and “Folies Bergère de Paris” (1935), tétons was replaced with piton (peg). What’s really amazing about this is that they thought Americans knew enough French to be offended!

NB This great translation is by Fabuleux at Lyrics Translate.

VALENTINE On se rappelle toujours sa première maîtresse J'ai gardé d'la mienne un souvenir pleine d'ivresse Un jour qu'il avait plu Tous deux on s'était plu Ensuite on se plut de plus en plus J'lui d'mandait son nom, elle me dit Valentine Et comme elle suivait chaque soir la rue Custine Je pris le même chemin Et puis j'lui pris la main J'lui pris tout enfin Elle avait des tout petits petons, Valentine, Valentine Elle avait des tout petits tétons Que je tâtais à tâtons, Ton ton tontaine Elle avait un tout petit menton, Valentine, Valentine Outre ses petits petons ses petits tétons son petit menton Elle était frisée comme un mouton Elle n'était pas une grande intelligence Mais dans un plumard, ça n'a pas d'importance Quand on a dix-huit ans On n'en demande pas tant Du moment qu'on s'aime, on est content Elle n'avait pas un très bon caractère Elle était jalouse et même autoritaire Pourtant, j'en étais fous Elle me plaisait beaucoup Parce que surtout Elle avait des tout petits petons, Valentine, Valentine Elle avait des tout petits tétons Que je tâtais à tâtons, Ton ton tontaine Elle avait un tout petit menton, Valentine, Valentine Outre ses petits petons ses petits tétons son petit menton Elle était frisée comme un mouton Hier, sur le boulevard, je rencontre une grosse dame Avec des grands pieds, une taille d'hippopotame Vivement elle m'saute au cou Me crie bonjour, mon loup Je lui dis pardon, mais qui êtes vous Elle sourit voyons, mais c'est moi, Valentine Devant son double menton, sa triple poitrine Je pensais, rempli d'effroi Qu'elle a changé, ma foi Dire qu'autre fois Elle avait des tout petits petons, Valentine Mais ils sont enflés à présent Valentine Elle avait des tout petits tétons des vraie p'tite pommes Non non j'aime mieux parler d'autre chose voila Elle avait elle avait un tout petit menton, avec une p'tite pincette Elle en a quatre ou cinq mentons maintenant Oh cette pauvre petite Valentine ça d'vrait pas être permis ça non C'est des trucs qui ne devarait pas être permis Non

VALENTINE You always remember your first lover I recall mine with giddiness One day it had rained We both fancied each other Form then on we fancied each other more and more I asked her name, she said Valentine Each night she would walk through rue Custine I took the same road Then I took her hand Then I took it all She had very tiny feet, Valentine, Valentine She had very tiny breasts That I felt gingerly She had a very tiny chin, Valentine, Valentine Tiny feet, tiny breasts, tiny chin, and furthermore She was as curly as a sheep She wasn’t the brightest But in bed, that’s not important When you are eighteen You aren’t that fussy You’re happy as long as you’re in love She wasn’t the most pleasant person She was jealous and even bossy Yet I was crazy for her I liked her so much Mostly because She had very tiny feet, Valentine, Valentine She had very tiny breasts That I felt gingerly She had a very tiny chin, Valentine, Valentine Tiny feet, tiny breasts, tiny chin, and furthermore She was as curly as a sheep Yesterday I met a fat lady on the street She had huge feet and a hippo’s waist She jumped on me Yelled hello darling I said excuse me, who are you? She smiled and said: it’s me, Valentine Seeing her double chin, triple breasts I thought to my horror How she’s changed, really Given that She had very tiny feet, Valentine, But now they’ve swollen She had a very tiny breasts, like apples But I’d rather change the topic now She had a very tiny chin, with a dimple She has four or five chins now Oh poor Valentine, this shouldn’t be allowed at all This shouldn’t be allowed At all