Castelhemis
Miscellaneous
Words and music: Philippe Laboudigue
(c) Cézanne-Argile
1 It’s the story of a friend called Coco
Musician, but not too much, rather guerrilla,
Guerilla of the voice, guerrilla every time
That he took us by the hand
To sing his choruses.
He had come to us from a distant country
We didn't know any more, except that he was Latin
That he had left his country one fine day
br/>That he had left... for a mad general.
R And it was Coco-ci and Coco-à,
And c 'was Coco, play us some samba
And Coco he played, and Coco he sang,
And he took us and he took us away
And it was Coco- here and Coco-that,
And it was Coco, play bossa for us
And Coco he played, and Coco he sang,
But never quite, did not bring us back.
2 He sang in the wind millions of accents
Which perfumed our hearts like a little pepper
He had the smile of someone who has seen
The stars die and who will never forget
He did wonders by picking up his guitar
He came out of the sun when it was getting late
He forgot the cold, he forgot the night
There was more than his voice... singing strange melodies.
3 In the morning, he went we don't really know where
To hide his sleep, a a bit like a cuckoo
I ran like crazy, I followed him everywhere
To learn to play mahogany songs
Which talk about bamboo or fragrant woods
From wood of Pernambuco from which we make archers
Who make hearts vibrate, which make bodies dance
Just at the sound of his voice... we had a change of scenery.
4 I who dreamed of one day being like Coco
Musician in the court of wind and birds
That when he left, I looked at him so much
That a little little of his life, I think I stole
I have the same boots as Coco, the same guitar as Coco
I sing the refrain wherever they call me
And don't ask me if he really left
I won't answer you... but we lost a friend.

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