Vilain Pingouin — Festin de pingouins song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Festin de pingouins" by Vilain Pingouin.
Lyrics
Bon ben j’suis encore pass en dessous d’la table du festin de la vie,
pis c’est pas fini.
J’ai plus d’problmes d’abri fiscal, j’ai des problmes d’abri normal,
pis mes chums aussi.
Dire que dans l’temps on tait connu.
On jouait du jazz le soir dans les botes de nuit.
Des fois, on se faisait mme reconnatre dans la rue mais le jazz est
mort pis notre carrire aussi.
Michel jouait du balai comme la meilleure des mnagres mais lui il balayait sur sa caisse claire.
Il jouait un peu comme Buddy Rich mais en moins riche et en moins beau.
Mais sa batterie rentrait dans son auto.
Rodolphe n’tait jamais press, sauf peut-tre des fois quand il voulait
aller se coucher.
Quand il lchait sa guitare pour dire merci et s’en aller,
c’tait toujours pour aller relaxer.
Fred tait le contrebassiste.
Mais avant tout un philosophe existentialiste.
Pour divertir pendant le spectacle
il faisait un peu de tir l’arc.
Essayez pas, les cordes dbarquent.
Maintenant on vit sur les terrains vagues et dans les rues.
On parle aux pigeons parce qu’eux autres ils nous reconnaissent encore.
Vedette un jour mais 'dure pas, si on avait su…
on l’aurait fait quand mme parce qu’on a des ttes de porcs.
Claude jouait de la mandoline, de l’harmonica et d’la guitare,
d’l’accordon et quoi encore?
Il jouait un peu comme un Django mais avec quelques doigts en trop.
Il passait son temps faire des jeux de mots.
Maintenant c’est lui qui nous fait vivre tous les jours.
Il passe ses journes dans les ruelles faire le tour.
Il vend c’qu’il trouve pour qu’on ait quelque chose manger
Pis mme si on entends plus rien on continue jouer pis on va jamais
s’arrter.
Rudy tait reconnu pour ses paroles.
Pas celles qu’il chantait mais celles qu’il oubliait.
pis c’est sur nous que a retombait.
Comme un oiseau qui part et qui s’envole, sa mmoire se promenait
Lyrics translation
Good ben I'm still pass under the table of the feast of life,
but it's not over.
I have more tax shelter problems, I have normal shelter problems,
too bad for my chums.
To say that in time we were known.
We played jazz at night in the night boats.
Sometimes, we made ourselves a lady of recognition in the street but jazz is
death to our carrire too.
Michel played the broom like the best of the mnagres but he was sweeping on his snare drum.
He played a bit like Buddy Rich but less rich and less handsome.
But his battery was getting into his car.
Rodolphe was never in a hurry, except sometimes when he wanted to
go to bed.
When he dropped his guitar to say thank you and leave,
it was always to go relax.
Fred was the bass player.
But above all an existentialist philosopher.
To entertain during the show
he was doing a little archery.
Don't try, the strings are crashing.
Now we live on the wastelands and on the streets.
We talk to pigeons because they still recognize us.
Featured one day but ' not last, if we had known…
we would have done it when Ma'am because we have pigs.
Claude played mandolin, harmonica and guitar,
accordion and what else?
He played a bit like a Django but with a few extra fingers.
He spent his time playing puns.
Now it is he who makes us live every day.
He spends his days in the alleys walking around.
He sells what he finds so we can have something to eat
Mais mais if we hear nothing more we continue to play worse we will never
stop.
Rudy was recognized for his words.
Not the ones he sang, but the ones he forgot.
but it was on us that a fell.
Like a bird that leaves and flies, its mmory wandered