Renaud — La teigne song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "La teigne" by Renaud.
Lyrics
L’tait bti comme un moineau
Qu’aurait t malade.
A la bouche, derrire son mgot,
Y' avait des gros mots en cascades.
L’tait pas bien gros c’t' asticot,
Mais c’tait une vrai boule de haine,
On lui filait plein d' noms d’oiseaux.
Mme ceux qui l' connaissaient qu' peine
L’appelaient la teigne.
Il avait pas connu ses vieux,
Il tait d' l’Assistance,
Ce genre d’cole, pour rendre joyeux,
C’est pas vraiment Byzance.
D’ailleurs on lisait dans ses yeux
Qu' pour qu’y soit bien fallait qu’on l' craigne,
Si tu rentrais pas dans son jeux,
Putain ! C' que tu r’cevais comme beignes,
C’tait une teigne.
Avec les gonzesse, les mich’tons,
L’tait encore plus vache:
J' te pique tes sous, j' te fous des gnons,
Tu tombes amoureuses et j' m’arrache.
Pour sa p’tite gueule, ses poings d' bton,
Plus d’une se serait jete la Seine,
Elles lui parlaient d’amour, d' passion,
Y rpondait pas des chtaignes,
C’tait une teigne.
L’avait pas ft ses vingt berges
Quand, une nuit de novembre,
On l’a r’trouv raide comme un cierge,
Pendu au beau milieu d' sa chambre.
Si y’a un bon Dieu, une Sainte Vierge,
Faut qu’ils l’accueillent leur enseigne,
Parc' qu’avant d' passer sur l’autr' berge
Y m’avait dit personne ne m’aime,
J' suis qu’une pauv' teigne.
Mais moi qui l’ai connu un peu,
Quand parfois j’y repense,
Putain ! C' qu’il tait malheureux,
Putain ! C' qu’y cachait comme souffrance
Sous la ple blondeur de se frange,
Dans ses yeux tristes, dans sa dgaine.
Mais j' suis sr qu’au ciel c’est un ange,
Et quand j' pense lui mon coeur saigne.
Adieu la teigne…
Lyrics translation
The Tait bti like a Sparrow
That would have been sick.
At the mouth, behind his mgot,
There were big words in cascades.
The tait not big C't' maggot,
But it was a real hate ball,
We used to give him a lot of bird names.
Mrs. those who knew him
They called it ringworm.
He had not known his old,
It was about Assistance,
This kind of cole, to make merry,
It's not really Byzantium.
Besides, we could read in his eyes.
That for it to be good it had to be feared,
If you didn't get into his game,
Fuck ! C ' that you r'cevais like donuts,
It was a moth.
With the girls, the Mich'tones,
The tait even more cow:
I'll bite your dime, I'll fuck you with gnons. ,
You fall in love and I tear myself apart.
For his little mouth, his stick fists,
More than one would have thrown the Seine,
They talked to him about love, passion,
There was no chestnuts.,
It was a moth.
Had not ft its twenty banks
When, on a November night,
We found him stiff as a candle,
Hanging in the middle of his room.
If there is a good God, a Blessed Virgin,
They must welcome their sign,
Park ' that before passing on the other bank
Y told me no one loves me,
I'm just a pauper.
But I who knew him a little,
When sometimes I think about it,
Fuck ! C ' that he was unhappy,
Fuck ! What was hidden in it as suffering
Under the ple Blondie bangs herself,
In his sad eyes, in his dgaine.
But I am sr that in heaven it is an angel,
And when I think of him my heart bleeds.
Farewell to ringworm…