Georges Brassens — Lèche-cocu song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Lèche-cocu" by Georges Brassens.
Lyrics
Comme il chouchoutait les maris,
Qu’il les couvrait de flatteries,
Quand il en pinçait pour leurs femmes,
Qu’il avait des cornes au cul,
On l’appelait lèche-cocu.
Oyez tous son histoire infâme.
Si l’mari faisait du bateau,
Il lui parlait de tirant d’eau,
De voiles, de mâts de misaine,
De yacht, de brick et de steamer,
Lui, qui souffrait du mal de mer
En passant les ponts de la Seine.
Si l’homme était un peu bigot,
Lui qui sentait fort le fagot,
Criblait le ciel de patenôtres,
Communiait à grand fracas,
Retirant même en certains cas
L’pain bénit d’la bouche d’un autre.
Si l’homme était sergent de ville,
En sautoir — mon Dieu, que c’est vil —
Il portait un flic en peluche,
Lui qui, sans ménager sa voix,
Criait: «Mort aux vaches» autrefois,
Même atteint de la coqueluche.
Si l’homme était un militant,
Il prenait sa carte à l’instant
Pour bien se mettre dans sa manche,
Biffant ses propres graffiti
Du vendredi, le samedi
Ceux du samedi, le dimanche.
Et si l’homme était dans l’armée,
Il entonnait pour le charmer:
«Sambre-et-Meuse» et tout le folklore,
Lui, le pacifiste bêlant
Qui fabriquait des cerfs-volants
Avec le drapeau tricolore.
Lyrics translation
As he pampered husbands,
That he covered them with flatteries,
When he was pinching for their wives,
That he had horns up his ass,
We used to call him a cuckold.
Everyone hear his infamous story.
If the husband was boating,
He was talking to her about a draft.,
Of sails, masts of misaine,
Yacht, brick and steamer,
He, who suffered from seasickness
Crossing the Bridges of the Seine.
If the man was a little bigot,
He who smelled the faggot loud,
Riddled the sky with patenostres,
Communicated to great smash,
Withdrawing even in some cases
Bread blesses from the mouth of another.
If the man was a city Sergeant,
In jumping-my God, that's vile —
He was carrying a stuffed cop.,
He who, without sparing his voice,
Shouted: "Death to the cows" once,
Even affected by pertussis.
If the man was an activist,
He was just taking his card.
To get well in his sleeve,
Deleting his own graffiti
Friday, Saturday
Saturday, Sunday.
What if the man was in the army,
He intoned to charm him:
"Sambre-ET-Meuse" and all the folklore,
He, the bumbling pacifist
Who made kites
With the tricolor flag.