Pour être encore en haut d'l'affiche - Jean Ferrat

La langue franaise a fait son temps

Parat qu’on n’arrte pas l’progrs

Que pour tre vedette prsent, il vaut mieux chanter en anglais

Et moi et moi pauvre de moi, qui me tais depuis si longtemps

Faudrait qu’je fasse gaffe tout a, que je m’reconvertisse temps

J’ai pris la mthode assimil, my tailor in the pocket

Pour avoir l’air comme les dbiles, d’arriver du Massachusetts

Pour tre encore en haut d’l’affiche, faudrait qu’je sussure en angliche

Si j’veux coller mon poque, il me faut braire en amerloque

Singing in the rain, singing in the train, singing my heart

Singing in the woods, singing in the blood, it is not the tarte

S’il n’y a plus rien d’autre faire pour chapper la misre

Si c’est l’seul moyen ici-bas d’intresser les mass mdia

Si le franais ou le breton, si l’occitan ou l’auvergnat

Comme on m’le dit sur tous les tons, le show-business il aime pas a

Y a p’t-tr' quand mme un avantage cette volution sans frein

On pourra chanter sans entrave quand les gens n’y comprendront rien

Pour tre encore en haut d’l’affiche, j’pourrai sussurer en angliche

Si je n’veux pas finir en loque, je pourrai braire en amerloque

Singing in the rain, singing in the train, singing my heart

Singing in the woods, singing in the blood, it is not the tarte

J’entends les copains ricaner que j’ai plutt l’accent manouche

Ils sont jaloux d’mon p’tit succs

Quand j’ai d’la bouillie plein la bouche

Grce aux sondages indiscutables dans l’me du franais moyen

Il parat que nos responsables savent tout du got de chacun

Plaire tout l’monde et personne, c’est pas donn n’importe qui

N’allez pas croire qu’ils s’en tamponnent

S’ils nous transforment en colonie

Pour tre encore en haut d’l’affiche, j’commence penser en angliche

Quand j’aurai le feeling ad hoc, a va faire mal en amerloque

Singing in the rain, singing in the train, singing my heart

Singing in the woods, singing in the blood, it is not the tarte.

The French language has had its day

Seems we can't stop progress

That to be a star, it is better to sing in English

And me and poor me, who's been silent for so long

I would have to be careful all about it, that I reconvert time

I took the assimil method, my tailor in the pocket

To look like the stupid ones, to come from Massachusetts

To still be at the top of the bill, I would have to whisper in English

If I want to stick my time, I have to bray in bitterness

Singing in the rain, singing in the train, singing my heart

Singing in the woods, singing in the blood, it's not the pie

If there's nothing else to do to escape the misery

If it's the only way here below to interest the mass media

If French or Breton, if Occitan or Auvergne

As I've been told in all tones, show business doesn't like it

There may still be an advantage to this unbridled evolution

We can sing unhindered when people don't understand

To still be at the top of the bill, I could whisper in English

If I don't want to end up in rags, I could bray bitterly

Singing in the rain, singing in the train, singing my heart

Singing in the woods, singing in the blood, it's not the pie

I hear my friends sneering that I have a gypsy accent

They are jealous of my little success

When my mouth is full of porridge

Thanks to indisputable polls in the soul of the average Frenchman

It seems that our managers know everything about everyone's taste

Pleasing everyone and nobody, it's not given to anyone

Don't think they don't care

If they turn us into a colony

To still be at the top of the bill, I start thinking in English

When I get the ad hoc feeling, it's going to hurt bitterly

Singing in the rain, singing in the train, singing my heart

Singing in the woods, singing in the blood, it is not the pie.