Retinas and pupils, boys have eyes that shine
For a fool's game, see under the skirts
Girls.
The whole life, absorbed by this affair
By this fool's game, see under the skirts
Girls.
They, very proud on their stools in the air
Look at me taking and letting the wind
Do everything.
They, in the suave, the weakness of men, they know
That the only thing that turns on Earth
It is their light dress.
We do a lot: bend over, twist our necks.
To see misfortune, what do our lives boil down to?
To see all the pride, all the wars with mourning
Death, beauty, summer songs
Dreams.
If sometimes, that embarrassment that they don't want
When we look at their guibolles, the boys are panicking
About that.
So, it has to fall: the men or the woodpigeons.
The Blairs, the Khmer Rouge, the slightest deer
Who moves.
Fanfares, blue white rage, glass of red, green with rage
The honor of the militias, you will be a man
My son.
They, not proud on their stools in the air
Ploring look and not understanding
Not everything.
They, in the 'serious, the weakness of men, they know
That the only thing that turns on Earth
It's their light dress.
Retinas and pupils, boys have eyes that shine
For a fool's game, see under the skirts
Girls.
The whole life, absorbed by this affair
By this game of dupes, see under the skirts
Girls.

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