Folk song in a old-time spirit. Female singer, guitar, bass, mandolin Folk song in a old-time spirit. Female singer, guitar, bass, mandolin & harmonium.歌词
You say write me a song that’s never been sungOh I’ll do my best with theserecycled expressions on the tip of my tonguetired out chords, give it a rest My mama said no one’s the sameand her mama told her that toowell I guess it’s not an unfair claimbut all I know is deja vu Because it’s old news, I hate to break it to yaOld news, but I’m sure you already knowThat what I say tomorrowwell it’s just something borrowedIt’s old news But nobody’s got a love like we doSo much more than hearts and glitterNo you just can’t compare us toThose other couples you see on twitter…No, it’s really not, it’s I know it may seem redundant But really why would I try?Because though words may be abundantEach one’s been wrung out dry We’re all just looking for greased moldsTo slide easily intoAnd do what you’re told they don’t care what you’ve been throughAfter all, somebody somewhereHas known what you’ve knownSeen what you’ve seenFelt what you’ve felt
And now it’s Old news, I hate to break it to youOld news, but I’m sure you already know That what I say tomorrowWell it’s just something borrowedIt’s old news Hate to break it to youOld news, but I’m sure you already know That what I say tomorrowwell it’s just something borrowedIt’s old news
Song sung in French. 30's. Jazzy, mischievous & loving. Male & female Song sung in French. 30's. Jazzy, mischievous & loving. Male & female singer duet, piano, bassoon & rhythm.歌词
Un reflet de vous dans la vitrineEt mon cœur soudain se ranimeComme au ciné ou dans les magazinesUn reflet de vousVos yeux qui m’entraînentVotre charme de ParisienneVotre silhouette sur la mienneUn reflet de vous,Votre taille fineDéjà je vous imagine...Au volant de votre DauphineEntre Paris et Morzine
Un reflet de vous dans la vitrineEt mon cœur soudain s’illumineDu bout des yeux je vous devineUn sourire de vous,Vos fines moustachesQui se reflètent dans la glaceEt ce bonheur qui me dépasseUn veston croisé,Le regard en coinVotre charme parisienUn reflet de vous, je vous vois sur l’heureFringant sur votre scooter
Un reflet de nousDedans la vitrineLe destin qui se dessineAu volant d’une limousineNous partirons pour la Chine(Adieu, partons pour la Chine)
English translation : UN REFLET DE VOUS
Your réflection in the windowAnd my heart leaps upLike in the movies or in the magazinesYour reflectionYour eyes enchant meYour Parisian charmYour silhouette on mineYour reflectionYour slim waistAlready I imagine you…At the wheel of your DauphineBetween Paris and Morzine Your reflection in the windowAnd my heart suddenly brightensWith a glimpse I make you outYour smileYour fine moustacheReflected in the mirrorAnd the happiness I can but imagineA double-breasted jacketA sidelong glanceYour Parisian charmYour reflection, I see you straight awayA dashing image on your scooter
Your reflectionIn the windowDestiny is drawnAt the wheel of a limousineWe’re off to the China
Song sung in French. 50's. Paris. Exhilarating & sentimental. Female Song sung in French. 50's. Paris. Exhilarating & sentimental. Female singer, piano, strings & guitar.歌词
ParisT'as l'palpitant à Notre-DameMais l'Amour c'est rue d'AmsterdamQu'on l'achète, pour des picaillons,Mêm' à c'prix là parfois c'est bon ParisT'as la tête au creux des nuagesLa Tour Eiffel et trois étagesQui scintillent quand arriv' le soirDès fois qu'tu vois tout trop en noir ParisT'as les pieds au bord de la SeineOù s'noie l’chagrin quand t’as d’la peineSous des vagues de mélancolieAu son des orgu' de Barbarie ParisT’as les esgourd' qu’ont des bouchonsA caus' de la circulationT’as plus vingt berges et dans ta voixQuand tu gamberges ça n’est plus toi
ParisT'as les poumons dans l' Bois d'VincennesDans l’Bois d'Boulogne des phénomènesQui respirent un parfum d’amour Qui ne durera pas toujours
ParisDans tes veines y a l'métro qui ramePour écouler tous les quidamsQui s'serrent les coudes au p'tit matinPour s'faufiler jusqu'au turbin ParisT’as les tripes au Quartier LatinQuand vient l’mois d’Mai et dans la mainTu tiens l'fusil ou bien l' canonA l'heur' de la Révolution ParisY a tes peintres qui t'font des couleursDes piqu'assiettes qui n'ont pas peurD'impressionner dans les salonsTime is Monet ou Valadon ParisT'as tant d'amour dans tes chansonsQu'parfois on en perd la raisonQu'on se les siffle à tout bout d'champEt parfois mêm' aux enterr'ments
English translation :
PARIS ParisYour heart is in Notre DameBut love, it’s in rue d’AmsterdamWhere you buy it for peanuts ParisYour head is nestled in the cloudsThe Eiffel Tower and its three storiesWhich sparkle as night fallsIf ever you looking on the dark side ParisYour feet on the bank of the SeineWhere sadness drowns when you’re in painUnder waves of melancholyTo the sound of the barrel organ Paris,Your ears are blockedBecause of the trafficYou’re no longer twenty and in your voiceI you think about itIt’s no longer you ParisYour lungs are in the Bois de VincennesAnd in the Bois de Boulogne these creaturesWho breeze a perfume of loveWhich will not last forever ParisIn your veins there’s the metro striving To circulate your populationCrushed together in the early morningOn their way to work ParisYour guts are in the Latin QuarterWhen the month of May comes aroundPistol in your hand or even the canonAt the hour of the Revolution ParisPainters fill you with coloursScroungers
unafraidTo make an impression in the salonsTime is Monet or Valadon ParisSo much love in your songsSometimes loosing our heads in themWhistling them at every turnAnd sometimes even at funerals
Song sung in French. 60's & 70's Cabaret. Mischievous & joyful. Song sung in French. 60's & 70's Cabaret. Mischievous & joyful. Female singer & small orchestra.歌词
Les gens de ma sorteSont de vrais amoursSur le pas d’ leur porteIls vous disent « Bonjour ! »« Hello ! Tu viens chéri ? »« Tu seras mon homme »« Là-haut dans mon p’tit nid »« Tu pourras admirer Paris »Les gens de ma sorteOnt un p’tit béguin
Pour les gens qui portentLe « chic parisien »Pour faire des foliesUne douce ivresse :Le Paradis des petites femmes de Paris Sur les Champs-ElyséesTout près des quais de la SeineAu comptoir des cafésAux abords du Bois d’VincennesOn peut les voir passerTrès
coquettes elles se promènentMon Dieu qu’elles sont joliesMais moi j’vous l’dit : Les gens de ma sorteOnt des rendez-vousQui parfois rapportentExtrêmement beaucoupQuand dîner sur l’boul’vardD’vient une habitudeOn n ‘a plus le cafardEt les idées comme du café noirLes gens de ma sorteRêvent de bijouxQue les Dames portentAutour de leur couEt si cela finitAdieu la richesse...Je veux aller là où mon cœur me conduitAu Paradis des petites femmes de Paris
English translation : LES PETITES FEMMES DE PARIS People like meAre proper dearsOn their door stepThey say « Allo darlin’ fancy a bit?”“you’ll be my man »”Up their in my little nest”“You can admire Paris”People like me Take a fancyTo people who wear“Parisian chic”So are folliesAre bathed in sweet inebriation:The paradise of the little ladies of Paris
On the Champs ElyséesRight by the quays of the SeineIn the café barsTo the edges of the Bois de VincennesWe see them go bySo coquettish as they walkMy word how pretty they areBut I must tell you people like meHave rendez-vousWhich sometimesBring in a lot of moneyWhen we become accustomedTo dining on the boulevardWe lose the bluesAnd thoughts as black as café noir.People like me Dream of jewelsThat grand ladies wearAround their necksAnd, dream over,Farewell richness…I want to go where my heart leads meTo the paradise of the little ladies of Paris
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.歌词
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
Spooky, fun, light. Playful woodwind melodies with quirky mallets, Spooky, fun, light. Playful woodwind melodies with quirky mallets, fun percussion and dramatic harpsichord melodies and supernatural synths. Whimsical halloween cue with ghostly elements but a magical, lighthearted vibe, building to a determined, fantastical finale.
Spooky, fun, light. Playful woodwind melodies with quirky mallets, Spooky, fun, light. Playful woodwind melodies with quirky mallets, fun percussion and dramatic harpsichord melodies and supernatural synths. Whimsical halloween cue with ghostly elements but a magical, lighthearted vibe, building to a determined, fantastical finale.
Spooky, fun, light. Playful woodwind melodies with quirky mallets, Spooky, fun, light. Playful woodwind melodies with quirky mallets, fun percussion and dramatic harpsichord melodies and supernatural synths. Whimsical halloween cue with ghostly elements but a magical, lighthearted vibe, building to a determined, fantastical finale.
World music / road music. Alternate version, no sax, no flute. Urban, World music / road music. Alternate version, no sax, no flute. Urban, determined & panoramic. Synth, cymbal, percussion & organ.
Ethnic & traditional / world music. Alternate version, no sequencing. Ethnic & traditional / world music. Alternate version, no sequencing. Mysterious but determined. African guitar, percussion & whistle.
Underscore. Alternate version, no percussion, no ud. Sad & desolate. Underscore. Alternate version, no percussion, no ud. Sad & desolate. Accordion, male voice, cymbal & sound design.
