You have some grease on your hands
Or you a set course for the islands
A bad mark at destiny
Or a good one if that's easy
You're in the street in the city
A walkman stuck to your navel
Black child, woman of Toulouse
Anyone who sings "I was born to lose"
Blues players
We are blues players
Blues players
We are blues players
Blues players
We are blues players
Blues players
We are blues players
Arms dealers or customs officer
Cousteau Bombard or Caroline
A wiseman sitting under a cherry tree
Mother Theresa Brother Luther King
You flirt, you make out, you show off
Or you wait for death while overworking
The white guy who sings Toulouse
The black guy sings "I was born to lose"
Blues players
We are blues players
Blues players
We are blues players
Blues players
We are blues players
Blues players
We are blues players
Guys from Mecca, guys from Garonne
Glass blower, blow in the sax
Beautiful marquise, Mesrine beautiful baroness
Thousands and thousands and thousands of millions of people
Blues players
We are blues players
Blues players
We are blues players
Blues players
We are blues players
Blues players
We are blues players