Le bistrot [English translation]

In a shabby spot

inside Paris’ slums,

on a square,

there’s an old pub

run by a filthy

swine.

If you have a delicate palate,

and only taste

premium-quality wine,

have a drink at "Passy",

the nectar from this place

it’s beyond you.

But if your throat get

an armor of steel

lining it inside,

Just take a swig of this velvet,

this noble, very

threatening plonk.

Here, you’ll find

the very flower

of the street scum,

all of the destitute,

the hard cases

in that neighbourhood,

all coming in a row,

like a shoal of herrings,

to look with their very eyes

the pub’s beauty,

the wife of that filthy

swine.

I swear I’ll drink every drop

of water in the

"Wallace" fountains,

if right here and now,

you are not knocked out

by the grace

of this sweet peach

who has made a pit

into a palace,

with all her charms,

From top to bottom,

right where it counts.

And these delightful treasures,

who’s petting them ?

Who’s embracing them ?

Damm it’s going too far !

It’s all for that filthy

Swine !

It’s not fair, it’s mad,

but what could

we do to this fact ?

Love is getting old,

he’s just not seeing

straight any more.

If you are courtin',

just take care your chat

doesn’t irritate her.

Just you behave yourself,

don’t take a chance on her or

sparks will fly.

Because her slaping hand,

punishes with palm and back (slaps)

bold moves.

There’s not a man born

who’ll poke his nose

in her cup.

Not born, this fortunate one

who’ll manage to unfreeze this

block of ice.

Who’ll, behind his back,

put horns on that filthy

Swine.

In a shabby spot,

inside Paris’ slums,

on a square,

A sweet peach of a kind,

has made a pit

into a palace.