Les Negresses Vertes — Fanfaron song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Fanfaron" by Les Negresses Vertes.
Lyrics
Il a le coeur sur la main et la main sur le coeur
Oui mais quand il rit on dirait qu’il meurt.
Il s’habille d’un rien, sait se rendre élégant
Devant son miroir des heures se mirant.
A quoi bon se presser, on lui garde sa place
Arrivé au café il s’asseoit en terrasse.
Fanfaron bras cassé
Bras cassé Fanfaron c’est Fanfaron
Grand maq’reau Fanfaron
Fanfaron baratin
Baratin Fanfaron c’est Fanfaron
Il a bien vite fait de trouver ses complices
Nul ne peut contenir sa fièvre narratrice.
Personne n’est parfait aime-t-il à répéter
Car il voit en ses défauts autant de qualités.
Et les heures défilent, il en oublie sa maison
Le dernier qui parle a toujours sa raison.
Qui donc s’explique avec les mains
Plus embroilleur qu’un italien.
Qui pense que sa femme, ses enfants
Ne l’attendent plus et prend son temps.
Fanfaron bras cassé
Bras cassé Fanfaron c’est Fanfaron
Grand maq’reau Fanfaron
Fanfaron baratin
Baratin Fanfaron c’est Fanfaron
S’il tient bon l’anisette qu’il boit en compagnie
Ses amis le respectent pour son coeur, son esprit.
Homme de tradition à la sieste dévote
Voilà qu’il pense à son retour quand ses yeux le picotent.
Le vieux lion se lève, abrège son séjour
S’en va face au soleil, tout heureux de ce jour.
Qui dit le dimanche est sacré
Sans voir ni messe ni curé.
Qui est ce que le soleil sonnait
A son grand rire d’amitié.
Fanfaron bras cassé
Bras cassé Fanfaron c’est Fanfaron
Grand maq’reau Fanfaron
Fanfaron baratin
Baratin Fanfaron c’est Fanfaron
Lyrics translation
He has the heart on his hand and the hand on the heart
Yeah, but when he laughs it looks like he dies.
He dresses in nothing, knows how to make himself elegant
In front of his mirror hours stood.
What good to hurry, we keep his place
Arrived at the cafe he sits on the terrace.
Broken arm Fanfaron
Broken arm Fanfaron it's Fanfaron
Grand Maq'reau Fanfaron
Baratin Fanfaron
Nonsense Fanfaron it's Fanfaron
He quickly found his accomplices
No one can contain their storytelling fever.
No one is perfect does he like to repeat
For he sees in his faults so many qualities.
And the hours go by, he forgets his house
The last one who speaks is always right.
Which is explained with the hands
More embroiler than an Italian.
Who thinks his wife, his children
Do not wait for him anymore and takes his time.
Broken arm Fanfaron
Broken arm Fanfaron it's Fanfaron
Grand Maq'reau Fanfaron
Baratin Fanfaron
Nonsense Fanfaron it's Fanfaron
If he holds the anisette he drinks in company
His friends respect him for his heart, his mind.
Man of tradition with a devoted nap
Now he thinks of his return when his eyes tickle him.
The old lion rises, shortens his stay
Leaves in front of the sun, all happy with this day.
Who says Sunday is sacred
Without seeing mass or priest.
Who is what the sun sounded
To his great laugh of friendship.
Broken arm Fanfaron
Broken arm Fanfaron it's Fanfaron
Grand Maq'reau Fanfaron
Baratin Fanfaron
Nonsense Fanfaron it's Fanfaron