René bouteille - La Tordue

À l’heure où les étoiles tombent

Il creuse la sienne

Plus pâle qu’une ombre

Qui boit de la verveine

Il chante il chante

Mais c’est l’air de la mer

Qui bientôt le tourmente

Et lui vole sa prière

Il chante il chante

Mais c’est l’air de la mer

Qui bientôt le tourmente

Et lui vole sa prière

Depuis qu’il a vu l’jour

Il a trimardé sur terre

Mais il a pas eu plus d’amour

Qu’un sac de pommes de terre

Il chante il chante

Mais c’est de l’eau amère

Qui lui coule ardente

Brûlure à ses paupières

Il chante il chante

Mais c’est de l’eau amère

Qui lui coule ardente

Brûlure à ses paupières

Ses vieux l’ont pas r’connu

Alors il est allé s’fair' voir

Par le monde et ses rues

Il a mangé son pain noir

— On peut pas tout avoir…

Ouais mais quand on a rien eu

Et nul n’a répondu

Quand il voulait savoir

Et son coeur s’est fendu

D’essuyer tant d’déboires

Il est tombé des nues

Il s’est même fait trottoir

Puis porté disparu

Par des gens trop bavards

— Chacun vaut son voisin…

Sauf quand c’est un vaurien

Battant pavé et breloque

Il a le scorbut à l'âme

Et son coeur soliloque

Sans but le pauvre diable

Il a la têt' tordue

Essoré d’une oreille

C’est pas d’avoir trop bu

C’est d'être né bouteille

Il chante il chante

Il voulait boire la mer

Qui sur ses joues serpente

Les soirs de trop d’misère

Il chante il chante

Il voulait boire la mer

Qui sur ses joues serpente

Les soirs de trop d’misère

La mer la mer

C’est elle qui le hante

Dans son coeur une arrière

Saison d'écume qui chante

Dans l’miroir aux étoiles

DAns l’océan sa planque

D’alouette en cavale

Il a jeté son ancre

Il chante il chante

Mais c’est bientôt la mer

Qui vient couvrir sa plainte

Au creux d’sa dernière bière

Il chante il chante

Son chant de vagabond

C’est maintenant la mer

Qui roule sa chanson

Qui roule sa chanson

When the stars are falling

He digs his own

paler than a shadow

Who drinks verbena

He sings he sings

But it's the air of the sea

Which soon torments him

And steals his prayer

He sings he sings

But it's the air of the sea

Which soon torments him

And steals his prayer

Since he was born

He trekked on earth

But he got no more love

Than a bag of potatoes

He sings he sings

But it's bitter water

which flows ardently to him

Burning to his eyelids

He sings he sings

But it's bitter water

which flows ardently to him

Burning to his eyelids

His old people didn't recognize him

So he went to fuck off

By the world and its streets

He ate his black bread

- We can not have it all…

Yeah but when we got nothing

And no one answered

When he wanted to know

And his heart broke

To suffer so many setbacks

He fell from the clouds

He even got sidewalk

Then reported missing

By people who are too talkative

"Each is equal to his neighbour..."

Except when he's a scoundrel

Pavé and Charm Leaf

He's got scurvy in his soul

And his heart soliloquizes

Aimless the poor devil

He's got a twisted head

Wrung from one ear

It's not to have drunk too much

It's to be born in a bottle

He sings he sings

He wanted to drink the sea

Which on her cheeks winds

The evenings of too much misery

He sings he sings

He wanted to drink the sea

Which on her cheeks winds

The evenings of too much misery

The sea the sea

She's the one haunting him

In her heart a rear

Singing foam season

In the mirror to the stars

In the ocean his hideout

Lark on the run

He dropped his anchor

He sings he sings

But it's soon the sea

Who comes to cover his complaint

In the hollow of his last beer

He sings he sings

His wanderer's song

It's now the sea

Who rolls his song

Who rolls his song