Chant libre [English translation]

I've done it all, everything, all done,

But believing that it isn't enough, is to believe the criticism.

Me, I've done it all, I've always moved forward

with heart in hand, my family and my loved ones.

I've held out a hand, thrown a line, to friends who have only given me traps.

I've bent an ear and I've heard, heard well that they only want my place.

Everything becomes complicated from believing a word which hasn't come out of the mouth of a child,

I shared my secrets with them, they gave me their word.

They kept it for the time it takes to burn some incense.

I learned to read between the smiles, between the "I love you", between the "I miss you so much".

I learned to laugh between the sighs, between the "I'm bleeding", between the "when will you return?".

Chorus:

I see life as such a battle field, such a mine field, listen to the song of my gut.

Give life on the field of honour, and ignore it's fears thanks to songs of the Maasai.

I see life as such a battle field, a mine field,

a song of ruins, listen to the song of my gut.

To give my voice on the field of honour, in the face of songs of that calibre allows me to sing it free.

I've seen it all, I've had to even cross

oceans of tears, to get there.

I've known it all, because here everything is known,

behind everything is said, but in front all are silent.

I've given up on dating, because they have strayed from the path.

To avoid creating reputations,

tell me who you hang out with.

I'll tell you who you are.

I go on in this environment on a tightrope,

without ever asking for help.

I have more than one string to my bow,

I am not one of the weak, one of those who gives in.

Always with my head held high, even before a Monarch,

and if this life of mine is to sing, chicky babe, who would keep me from it for one day?

It's war in life, like it is on the land,

at the top of the charts, and never given second chance.

Chorus

And when I think about it, crows fly over our graves,

It's slaughter for a single phrase "The Brothers Fall".

The brothers arm themselves, the little brothers bleed,

there are no more soul brothers, than brothers in arms [two times]