Petit homme mort au combat - Daniel Balavoine

Petit homme Mort Au combat

(D. Balavoine)

Etendu, noy de poussire,

Un enfant fixe le nant,

Le front humide entour d’un turban,

Il dit que Dieu est grand -and

Dans son dos, mouill de sueur,

On peut voir qu’il n’a pas eu le temps

De comprendre d’o venait la douleur

Qui brise ses tympans

Petit homme mort au combat,

Qui a pu guider ses pas?

Ivre de prires

Rythmes par le glas

Petit homme mort au combat,

Quel Dieu a pu vouloir ca?

Qui peut etre fier

De tant de dgts

Et en moi, l’tau se ressre,

Quand je vois dfiler ces enfants

Aveugls par des hommes aux voeux pervers,

Aux hymnes d-lirants

Au del de toute frontire,

Il faut dire tout esprit naissant

Qu’aucune cause ne vaudra jamais

La mort d’un innocent -ent

Petit homme mort au combat,

Quel Dieu a pu vouloir ca?

Qui peut etre fier

De tant de dgts

Devant ces feux -eux

De Haine,

De Terre,

De Sang -ang -ang,

J’espre un peu

Quand meme,

Oh!

Que l’Homme comprenne

Que l’enfant ne sait pas quoi il consent!

Petit homme mort au combat,

Qui a pu guider tes pas?

Ivre de prires

Rythmes par le glas

Oh,

Petit homme mort au combat,

Quel Dieu a pu vouloir ca?

Qui peut etre fier

De tant de dgts!

Little Dead In Action Man

(D. Balavoine)

Lying, drowned in dust,

A child stares at the nant,

The wet forehead wrapped in a turban,

He says God is great -and

Behind his back, wet with sweat,

You can see he didn't have time

To understand where the pain was coming from

Who breaks his eardrums

Little man who died in battle,

Who could guide his steps?

Drunk on prayers

Rhythms through the death knell

Little man who died in battle,

What god could have wanted that?

who can be proud

So much damage

And in me the noose tightens,

When I see these kids go by

Blinded by men of perverse vows,

To de-lirious hymns

Beyond any border,

It must be said any nascent spirit

That no cause will ever be worth

Death of an Innocent -ent

Little man who died in battle,

What god could have wanted that?

who can be proud

So much damage

In front of these fires

Of Hatred,

Earthen,

From Blood -ang -ang,

I hope a little

All the same,

Oh!

Let the man understand

That the child does not know what he consents to!

Little man who died in battle,

Who could guide your steps?

Drunk on prayers

Rhythms through the death knell

Oh,

Little man who died in battle,

What god could have wanted that?

who can be proud

So much damage!