It's the story of a poor guy
Running like a bitch
When you have the whole week in trouble
You can dream of a bitch
br/>Riding his motorcycle
On the paths of Saturday evening
He skidded on his wheels
Hearing this bizarre cry
The girls of La Rochelle
Have caught scurvy
Cute, no more trifles
The Charentaise woman no longer responds oh geez
The poor guy blocked his machine
Thinking he was hallucinating
Then he held out his sticks
Hoping to be wrong
Yes but, suddenly behind him
He heard this fatal cry
Which seemed to tear the night apart
With all its sidereal horror
The girls of La Rochelle
Have caught © scurvy
Cute, no more trifles
The Charentaise no longer responds oh gee
Sitting on the edge of the sidewalk
With her head Soul in his hands
The poor guy was brooding
Punching hard like an old dog
And besides, speaking of dogs
The one who passed by this that time
He, who didn't want anything
Was entitled to what he didn't expect Oh?
The girls of La Rochelle
Have caught scurvy
Cute, no more trifles
The Charentaise woman no longer responds oh gee
The dog left with his tail down
Without having well all-all-inclusive
While our poor guy
He felt completely rejuvenated
He got back on his motorbike
And drove off into the night
But since then, in all the hamlets
It seems that the dogs are running behind him
The girls of La Rochelle
Have caught scurvy
Cute , no more trifles
The charentaise no longer responds
The moral of this song
For those who don't know
It's that in life, you have to Be practical
When you want what you don't have
As for you, poor little girls
From La Rochelle or elsewhere
Be so a little less cheeky
See that dogs don't scare us
(Cheval deux trois)
The girls of La Rochelle
Have caught scurvy
Cute, no more trifles
The Charentaise no longer responds