Le Mime - Lynda Lemay

J’cultivais des tas d’espoirs

Des enseignants are?

Put?

S Qui donnent la soif de savoir

Une grande universit?

Pour une ma?

Trise en histoire

Avec ses capacit?

S Il serait entr?

Haut la main

Dans l’domaine de la sant?

Avec ses doigts d’chirurgien

Il aurait pu tout apprendre

Finir dipl?

M?

En droits

Parler courement dix langues

Et puis plaider en Chinois

Costume noir ou sarreau blanc

Il aurait eu de la classe

Mon prodige, mon enfant

Mais h?

Las…

Mon fils est un mime

Il s’peinture la face

Il fait des p’tits signes

Aux pi?

Tons qui passent

Il s’met des collants

Qui lui moulent la chose

Il s’met des gants blancs

Pour offrir des roses… Imaginaires

Il sourit dans l’vide

Comme s’il?

Tait fi?

Are

D’avoir l’air stupide

Et d’savoir se taire

Il veut s’faire aimer

Avec sa d?

Marche

De pigeon manqu?

Il descend des marches… Imaginaires

Mon fils est un mime

Un croisement bizare

Entre Charlie Chaplin

Et une olive noire… D?

Noyaut?

E Il fait semblant qu’il est pris

Dans une boite qui are?

Tr?

Ci Ses doigts d’chirurgien rat?

Ne lui servent qu'?

T?

Ter

Ces petits murs transparents

Qu’il pousse et pousse?

Plein gants

Dans son spectacle gratuit

Que personne n’applaudi

En plein festival d'?

T?

Quand la rue est noire de monde

Y’a p'?

Tre pas d’son m?

Tier

Mais y’a d’son (fiston?) par contre

Costume noir au sarreau blanc

Il aurait eu de la classe

Mon prodige, mon enfant

Mais h?

Las…

Mon fils est un mime

Expert en mimiques

Mon fils est un digne

Emmerdeur publique

Trop con pour?

Tre clown

Fallait qu’il l’soit moins

Il fait m?

Me pas d’chiens

Avec des balloons

Il est juste heureux

De servir?

Rien

D'?

Tre silencieux

D'?

Tre dans l’chemin

Si l’ridicul tuait

Et ben mon pauv' gar?

On

(Il)La t?

Terait pour vrai

Sa boite?

La con

Je sais pas si?

A s’gu?

Ri Mais j’ai comme l’intuition

Que les mimes sont pas admis

Chez les psys de toute fa?

On On fait pasdes th?

Rapies

En s’taisant?

L’unisson

Il s’pourrait m?

Me que les psys

Courent un risque de d?

Pression

Devant ces Pierrots d’malheur

Qui cumulent les (???)

Qui s’culottent comme Mike Jagger

Mais qui ont l’talent d’un betterave…?

Queut?

E Mon fils est un mime,

Un autodidact

Dans sa discipline

Il fait le mounouak (?)

Il s’maquille en blanc

Comme Michael Jackson

Et amuse les enfants comme… Comme un singe qui s’gratte

Il marche?

Quattre pattes

Il marche contre le vent

Il devient galant

Il ouvre des porti?

Res toutes imaginaires

Il nettoie des vitres

Et tout le monde l'?

Vite

Vlan?!

La poubelle!

Son?

Ducation

Mon fils est formel

C’est?

A sa passion

Il est convaincu

Qu’il are?

Pend l’bonheur

Quand il distribue

Ses gerbes de fleurs… Imaginaires

Et dire qu’il avait

Tous les prix requis

Tout ce qu’il fallait

Pour s’faire des amis

Avoir une famille,

Avoir du succ?

S,

Une voiture qui brille,

Un beau grand chalet

S’il m’avait dit:

«J'suis l’propri?

Taire

D’un p’tite?

Picerie»

Ben, j’aurais?

T?

Fi?

Re Oui,?

La limite

M?

Me si c'?

Tait p’tit

Pis m?

Me en faillite

J’aurais tout compris

Mais, mon fils est un mime

Faut que j’m’en are?

Jouisse

Bon c’est l?

Gitime

Y’a jamais d’police

Qui arr?

Te les mimes

Ils sont sans malice

Tout ces petits mimes

Qui naissent et subsistent

J’ai beau me are?

Volter

Crier au supplice

C’est toujours le mime

Qui a le dernier mot

M?

Me si il est muet

M?

Me si il est idiot

Peut-?

Tre par respect

Pour Papa Marceau

Mon fils est un mime

Aidez-moi quelqu’un

Je suis orpheline

De mon fils d?

Funt

Il s'?

Trangle lui-m?

Me Comme un schizophr?

Ne Ses muscles se tordent

Il s’pend?

Une corde… Imaginaire

J’avais mis d’l’argent d’c?

T?

Pour ses?

Tudes avanc?

Es

J’avais tout?

Lui souhaiter

C'?

Tait un gamin dou?

Tout?

L’heure j’l’ai vu s’pointer

Habill?

En?

Tre humain

Bien plant?

Dans d’vrais souliers

Il m’a d’mand?

Un coup d’main

Et la j’me suis dit:

«?

A y est,

Il veut devenir pharmacien»

Mon prodige are?

Ssucitait

J’lui offrais tout mon soutient

Il m’a dit: «Maman je sais,

Qui a d’l’argent qui me revient

Si tu me le permettais

Je pourrais fonder enfin…

Une?

Cole de mimes

De mimes en s?

Rie

J’ai vu tous ces mimes

Qui se multiplient

Je voulais dire non

J’crois que j’ai dit oui

C'?

Tait mon gar?

On,

C'?

Tait mon petit

Donc quand vous verrez

Des mimes en vigueur

Dans l’courant d’l'?

T?

Vous offrir des fleurs… Imaginaires

Et ben vous saurez

Que c’est mon erreur

J’ai subventionn?

Tous ces emmerdeurs

Qui m’exasp?

Rent

Alors qu’en bonne m?

Re

C’que j’aurais du faire

Pour?

Tre solidaire

Avec mon comic

C’est d’me comporter

En mime autentique

Et puis lui r’filer

Un gros paquet d’fric… Imaginaire

(Merci? Georges pour cettes paroles)

I cultivated heaps of hopes

Teachers are?

What?

S Which make you thirst for knowledge

A big university?

For a ma?

Tries in history

With his abilities

If He would have entered?

Easily

In the field of health?

With his surgeon's fingers

He could have learned everything

Finish a diploma?

M?

Locations

Speak ten languages ​​fluently

And then plead in Chinese

Black suit or white smock

He would have had class

My prodigy, my child

But hey?

The ace…

My son is a mime

He paints his face

He makes little signs

At feet

passing tones

He puts on tights

Who mold him the thing

He puts on white gloves

To offer roses… imaginary

He smiles into the void

As if he?

Was it?

Are

To look stupid

And to know how to be silent

He wants to be loved

With his d?

Walk

Missing pigeon?

He comes down stairs... Imaginary

My son is a mime

A weird crossing

Between Charlie Chaplin

And a black olive... D?

Core?

E He pretends he's taken

In a box that are?

Tr?

Here His rat surgeon fingers?

Only serve him?

T?

Ter

These little transparent walls

That he pushes and pushes?

full gloves

In his free show

that no one applauds

In full festival of?

T?

When the street is crowded

There's no?

Tre pas d’son m?

Tier

But there's his (son?) on the other hand

Black suit with white lab coat

He would have had class

My prodigy, my child

But hey?

The ace…

My son is a mime

Mimicry Expert

My son is worthy

Public pain in the ass

Too dumb for?

be a clown

It should be less

It makes me

Me no dogs

With balloons

He's just happy

To serve?

Nothing

From?

very quiet

From?

Get in the way

If the ridiculous killed

Well my poor guy?

We

(He)The t?

Would be for real

His box?

The con

I don't know if?

A s'gu?

Ri But I have like intuition

That mimes are not allowed

In shrinks of all kinds?

We don't do tea?

rapies

By keeping quiet?

unison

It could be m?

Me than shrinks

Are at risk of d?

Pressure

In front of these Pierrots of misfortune

Who accumulate the (???)

Who wear panties like Mike Jagger

But who has the talent of a beet…?

What?

E My son is a mime,

An autodidact

In his discipline

He does the mounouak (?)

He wears white makeup

Like Michael Jackson

And amuse the children like... Like a scratching monkey

He walks?

four legs

He walks against the wind

He becomes gallant

Does he open doors?

Res all imaginary

He cleans windows

And everyone the?

Quick

Wham?!

The bin!

His?

Education

My son is formal

It is?

To his passion

He's convinced

What are they?

Happiness hangs

When he distributes

Her sprays of flowers... Imaginary

And say he had

All prices required

Everything you need

To make friends

To have a family,

Have success?

S,

A shining car,

A beautiful large chalet

If he had told me:

"Am I the owner?

To hush up

From a kid?

Grocery»

Well, would I?

T?

fi?

Re Yes,?

The limit

M?

Me if it?

Be little

Worse m?

Bankrupt me

I would have understood everything

But, my son is a mime

Should I be away?

Enjoy

Well this is it

Gitime

There's never any police

Who arr?

You mimes

They are harmless

All these little mimes

Who are born and remain

I'm fine?

Volter

Cry out

It's always the mime

Who has the last word

M?

Me if he's mute

M?

Me if he's stupid

May-?

Tre out of respect

For Papa Marceau

My son is a mime

help me someone

I am an orphan

Of my son from

funt

They'?

Trangle himself

Me like a schizophr?

Don't His muscles twist

He hangs himself?

A rope… imaginary

I had put some money in?

T?

For his?

Advanced studies?

Is

I had everything?

wish him

VS'?

Was a sweet kid?

All?

The time I saw him show up

Dressed?

In?

very human

Well planted?

In real shoes

He asks me?

A helping hand

And I said to myself:

“?

There it is,

He wants to become a pharmacist"

My prodigy are?

aroused

I offered him all my support

He said to me, "Mom I know,

Who's got money coming back to me

If you would let me

I could finally found...

A?

School of mimes

From mimes to s?

Laugh

I saw all these mimes

Which multiply

I meant no

I think I said yes

VS'?

Was it my guy?

We,

VS'?

Shut up my baby

So when you see

Mimes in force

In the course of the?

T?

Give you flowers… Imaginary

Well you will know

It's my mistake

I subsidized?

All these pain in the ass

Who pisses me off?

Rent

So what in good m?

D

What I should have done

For?

Be supportive

With my comic

It's to behave

In authentic mime

And then give him

A big bundle of money… Imaginary

(Thank you? George for these lyrics)