Below is the lyrics of the song Bonhomme De Chien , artist - La Rue Kétanou with translation
Original text with translation
La Rue Kétanou
Il vivote dans les rues les squares et les jardins
Marchant regard perdu, il fait son bonhomme de chien
Et oh pas de carrire pour l’avenir car hier n’est plus venir
Il vit le moment prsent, aprs l’hiver vient le printemps
Il gagne un peu d’argent, oh pas beaucoup videmment
Juste assez pour ne pas mourir, le temps d’avoir des souvenirs
Il croit pas trop en Dieu et puis mme si il y croyait
C’est dj dur seul seul alors pensez seul deux
On lit sur son visage oh la jeunesse qui se ride
Au-dessus de ses yeux, ses cheveux se dbrident
Il a l’ge des grands nuages qui ne tiennent pas en cage
Allant parcourant d’air vents du large vent arrire
Mais grands coups d’clairs l’orage blesse le nuage
La pluie saigne trs claire les larmes de son grand ge Il est libre son compte prenant les jours comme acompte
Se nourrissant de pommes, oh le joli freedom
Oh c’est en t que j’ai lu dans une rubrique aux faits divers
Qu’un vieillard mourut.
D’un coup de foudre rvolu
Il est lger comme l’air il n’a plus soif sa faim
Ma chanson n’a plus d’espoir, il n’y a pas de mots sans fin
Notre chanson n’a plus d’espoir, il n’y a pas de mots sans fin
Il vivote dans les rues les squares et les jardins
Marchant regard perdu, il fait son fantme de chemin
He lives in the streets the squares and the gardens
Walking lost staring, he does his dog man
And oh no career for the future because yesterday is not coming
He lives in the moment, after winter comes spring
He makes some money, oh not a lot of course
Just enough not to die, time to have memories
He doesn't really believe in God and then even if he did
It's already hard alone alone so think alone two
We read on his face oh the youth that wrinkles
Above her eyes, her hair is loose
He's the age of the big clouds that don't hold up in a cage
Going scouring air winds from the wide winds aft
But big flashes of lightning the storm hurts the cloud
The rain very clearly bleeds the tears of his old age He is free on his own taking the days as a down payment
Feeding on apples, oh the pretty freedom
Oh it was in summer that I read in a news item
An old man died.
From a thunderbolt gone
He's light as air he's no longer thirsty his hunger
My song has no more hope, there are no endless words
Our song has no more hope, there are no endless words
He lives in the streets the squares and the gardens
Walking lost gaze, he makes his way ghost
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