This song is your's
You the Auvergnat that, without fuss
GIved me four wood's pieces
When my life was feeling cold
You that give me fire when
the "croquantes" and "croquants" *
all this people well intentionned
slammed their doors on my face
that was nothing much than a wood fire
but it had heated my body
And in my soul its burning again
As a bonfire
you, the Auvergnat, when you'll died
When the undertaker will take you away
that he drives you, through the sky
To the Eternal Father
This song is your's
You the host that, without fuss
Gived me four bread's pieces
When my life was feeling hungry
you, that opened your bread box when
the croquantes and croquants
All this people well intetionned
they laughed seeing me fasting ( do not eat)
That was nothing more than a few bred pieces
But it had heated my body
And in my soul its burning again
As a great feast
you, the host, when you'll died
When the undertaker will take you away
that he drives you, through the sky
To the Eternal Father
This song is your's
You the stranger that, without fuss
Looking miserable you smiled me
When policeman caugh me
You, that didn't applaused when
the croquantes and the croquants
All this people well intentionned
Laughed seeing then taking me away
That was nothing more than sweetness (honey)
But te heated my body
and in my soul its burning again
As a great sun
you, the stranger, when you'll died
When the undertaker will take you away
that he drives you, through the sky
To the Eternal Father