歌词 ... Song sung in French. 20's. Java. French dance. Montmartre. Bouncy & ...Song sung in French. 20's. Java. French dance. Montmartre. Bouncy & melancholic. Female singer, accordion, piano, banjo & clarinet.
Tu n’as pas su m’aimerComme l’on doit aimerEst-ce un refrain de poète Qui t’a fait perdre la tête ?Le temps passe et pourtantMalgré moi je t’attendsEt dans Montmartre la nuit Levant les yeux je me dis : Tant que tournerontLes ailes en rond,Du Moulin de la GaletteMon cœur chantera,Comme auprès de toi,La chanson des jours de fêteQuand dans le faubourgLes yeux pleins d’amourSur moi tu posais la têteQu'elles sont joliesBrillant dans la nuitLes ailes du Paradis
Depuis ce jour mauditJe traîne dans ParisEt dans le moindre visage
Je recherche ton imageLes jours semblent si longsQu' au fil des rues sans nom Si le cafard me chahuteJe regarde vers la Butte
English translation : Moulin de La Galette You couldn’t love meLike you should Is it with the poet’s refrainThat you lost your head?Time goes by and stillI wait for you despite myselfAnd in Montmartre at nightRaising my eyes I say to myself: As long as Windmill blades of the of the Moulin de La Galette shall turnMy heart will singLike when I am near youThe song of the feast daysWhen in the faubourgEyes full of loveYou leant your head on mineHow pretty they areShining in the nightThese wings of Paradise Since this accursed dayI roam the streets of ParisAnd every faceI seek your reflectionThese days seem so longthat on street after nameless streetIf the blues takes holdI look toward la Butte (of Montmartre)
Instrumental version, no voice. France. 20's. Java. French dance. ...Instrumental version, no voice. France. 20's. Java. French dance. Montmartre. Bouncy & melancholic. Clarinet, accordion, piano, banjo & strings.
歌词 ... Song sung in French. 50's. Paris. Waltz. Romantic & moving. Female ...Song sung in French. 50's. Paris. Waltz. Romantic & moving. Female singer, accordion & small ensemble.
Il y aura toujours un p'tit air de rengaineAu fond d'une cour, sur les bords de la SeineUn refrain qui conjugue l'amourEt puisLes amants de ParisIl y aura toujours une frêle guinguettePour danser à deux, pour s'aimer en cachetteUn hôtel à trois pas du faubourgOù l'on confond la nuit et le jour Il est au fin fond d’une impasseUne maison où l'on s'enlaceA l'abri des sombres regardsDes bourgeois qui passent le soirIl n'y a même pas de terrasseMais chacun y trouve sa placeEt dans un coin l'accordéonOffre alors à chacun sa chanson
English translation : There will always be There will always beA little old songIn a courtyard, on the banks of the SeineA refrain which bindsAmour with the lovers of ParisThere will always beA creaky guingetteTo dance together, to love in secretAn hotel stone’s throw from the faubourgWhen night and day entwine Down the end of an alleyA house where we entwineAway from the dark looksOf the bourgeoisie passing by in the eveningThere is not even a terraceBut everyone can find their placeAnd in a corner the accordionOffers each their song
歌词 ... Song sung in French. Historical song. First World War.1917. Dramatic. ...Song sung in French. Historical song. First World War.1917. Dramatic. Male singer & accordion.
Quand au bout d'huit jours, le r'pos terminé, On va r'prendre les tranchées, Notre place est si utile Que sans nous on prend la pile. Mais c'est bien fini, on en a assez, Personn' ne veut plus marcher, Et le cœur bien gros, comm' dans un sanglot On dit adieu aux civ'lots. Même sans tambour, même sans trompette, On s'en va là-haut en baissant la tête. Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour, Adieu toutes les femmes. C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours, De cette guerre infâme. C'est à Craonne, sur le plateau, Qu'on doit laisser sa peau Car nous sommes tous condamnés Nous sommes les sacrifiés !Huit jours de tranchées, huit jours de souffrance, Pourtant on a l'espérance Que ce soir viendra la r'lève Que nous attendons sans trêve. Soudain, dans la nuit et dans le silence, On voit quelqu'un qui s'avance, C'est un officier de chasseurs à pied, Qui vient pour nous remplacer. Doucement dans l'ombre, sous la pluie qui tombe Les petits chasseurs vont chercher leurs tombes.
English translation : Craonne Song When at the end of a week's leaveWe go back to the trenches, Our place there is so usefulThat without us we'd get a thrashing.But now it’s finished we've had enoughNobody wants to march anymore.And with hearts downcast with sobs,We're saying good-bye to the civilians, Even without drum or trumpetWe're heading up there with lowered heads. Good-bye to life, good-bye to love, Good-bye to all you women, It's finished, and foreverwe've had it for good with this awful war.It's in Craonne up on the plateau That we're leaving our skins,'Cause we've all been sentenced to die. We're the ones that they're sacrificing A week in the trenches, a week of suffering, And yet we still have hopeThat tonight the relief will come That we keep waiting for.Suddenly in the silent night We hear someone approachIt's an infantry officer Who's coming to take over from us. Quietly in the shadows as the rain fallsThe poor soldiers go in search of their graves Those who’ve got the dough, they will come back'Cause it's for them that we're dying. Now it’s finished, 'cause all us poor soldiers Are going to go on strike. It'll be your turn, fat cats, To go up onto the plateau. And if you want war, Then pay for it with your own skins. On the grand boulevards it's hard to watch All the fat cats whooping it up For them life is good But for us it's not the same Instead of hiding, all these shirkers Would do better by going up to the trenches To defend what they have, because we have nothing All of us poor wretches All our comrades are buried there Defending the wealth of these gentlemen here
Instrumental version, no voice. France. Historic song. First World ...Instrumental version, no voice. France. Historic song. First World War 1917. Nostalgic. Solo accordion.
Instrumental version, no voice. France. Historic song. First World ...Instrumental version, no voice. France. Historic song. First World War 1917. Nostalgic. Solo accordion.
Pacy, passionate, curt. Serious winding accordion tune immediately ...Pacy, passionate, curt. Serious winding accordion tune immediately asserts a fiery aura, visions of fast-paced dancing and joviality. Minor melodies convey an austere and hard-working dance routine, with spins and passionate embraces. Unpredictable and impassioned accordion lead inspires feelings of intensity.
Instrumental version, no voice. France. 20's 30's. Dramatic & ...Instrumental version, no voice. France. 20's 30's. Dramatic & sentimental. Accordions, piano & double-bass.
歌词 ... Song sung in French. 20's 30's. Dramatic & sentimental. Female ...Song sung in French. 20's 30's. Dramatic & sentimental. Female singer, accordion & piano.
J’ai rêvé que tu partaisJ’ai rêvé que tu étaisDerrière ce murSilencieux et durTon corps s’éloignaitTon corps s’effaçaitJe restais désolée derrière ce mur Dans la brume de mes penséesJe chavireJ’étreint ton souvenirLaisse-moi caresser ta mainEt te voir revenir (bis) J’ai rêvé ton retourJ’ai rêvé tant de joursContre le mur de ton silenceTon corps s’approchaitTon corps me touchaitJe restais enflamméeContre ce mur
English translation : I dreamt you were living I dreamt you were livingI dreamt that you were behindThis hard silent wallYour body in the distance,Disappearing. In the mist o my thoughtsI capsize,I clutch to your memoryLet me kiss your handAnd see you come back I dreamt of your returnI dreamt for some many daysAgainst the wall of your silenceYour body came nearerYour body touched mineI remained inflamedAgainst the wall
歌词 ... Song sung in French. 60's. Tango. Mischievous & funny. Female singer, ...Song sung in French. 60's. Tango. Mischievous & funny. Female singer, piano, string orchestra & rhythm.
Je tourne en rond dans ma boutique,J'en ai ma claque j'en ai ma clique.J'vends des souvenirs au bout d'la place,Toute une camelote qui s'entasse,Mais tout ce commerce est en berne,Depuis que c'est mon mec qui le gouverne.
Oh! mais là faut que ça cesse!J'suis plus de la première jeunesseSi je veux vivre de mes breloques,Il faut que j'le mette à la porte! Mais qui va m'réchauffer l'café?Partager mes coups dans l'nez?Me dire que j'suis la plus belle,Pendant que je fais la vaisselle?
Et dès qu'arrivent les touristes,Le voilà qui se met en piste!Il terrorise les gamins,Et les parents font du tintouin,Et s'il entre une bonne sœur, Monsieur, grossier,Insulte le seigneur!
English translation : RENGAINE
I go round and round in my boutique,I can’t stand it anymoreI sell souvenirs at the end of the square,A load of tat piling upBut because business is badSince my guy took over Oh ! it’s got to stopI’m no longer in the prime of youthIf I must live from my trinketsI’ll have to chuck him outBut who’s gonna make my coffeeShare the one over the oddsTell me I am the prettiestWhile I’m doing the washing-up And as soon as the tourists arrive,Then his show beginsHe terrorizes the kidsAnd the parents make fussAnd if a none comes in, Monsieur, uncouth,Insults the Good Lord
Upbeat, positive, carefree. Strummed acoustic guitars with jazzy and ...Upbeat, positive, carefree. Strummed acoustic guitars with jazzy and light classical guitar topline. Meandering, happy melodies form a warm, innocent and laid-back Parisian waltz with an air of summer romance.
Upbeat, positive, carefree. Vintage mix. Strummed acoustic guitars ...Upbeat, positive, carefree. Vintage mix. Strummed acoustic guitars with jazzy and light classical guitar topline. Meandering, happy melodies form a warm, innocent and laid-back Parisian waltz with an air of summer romance.
Upbeat, positive, carefree. Strummed acoustic guitars with jazzy and ...Upbeat, positive, carefree. Strummed acoustic guitars with jazzy and light classical guitar topline. Meandering, happy melodies form a warm, innocent and laid-back Parisian waltz with an air of summer romance.