Lyrics of J’avions reçu commandement - Yves Montand

J’avions reçu commandement - Yves Montand
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song J’avions reçu commandement, artist - Yves Montand. Album song 49 succès de 1953 à 1959, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 31.12.2010
Record label: Marianne Melodie
Song language: French

J’avions reçu commandement

(original)
J’avions reçu commandement
De partir pour la guerre
Je ne me soucions point pourtant
D’abandonner notre mère
Pourtant l’a ben fallu
J’ai pris mon sac et je suis venu
Pourtant l’a ben fallu
J’ai pris mon sac et je suis venu
Y m’ont donné un grand fusil
Une sabre, une gibecière
Une grande capote, un grand t’habit
Pendant jusqu’au darrière
Et fallait se tenir drait
Aussi drait qu’un pic un piquet
Et fallait se tenir drait
Aussi drait qu’un pic un piquet
Y’en avait sur leurs chevaux
Qui faisaient bien deux mètres
Avec deux ou trois plus de zoziau
Plantés dessus leur tête
Et des poils d’artillon
Tout alentour de leurs talons
Et des poils d’artillon
Tout alentour de leurs talons
Y m’ont placé en faction
Devant une citadelle
Ceux qui n’connaissions point mon nom
M’appelions: «Sentinelle!»
A chaque chat qui passait
Fallait crier: «Quou qu’chi, quou qu’chai!»
A chaque chat qui passait
Fallait crier: «Quou qu’chi, quou qu’chai!»
Y m’ont mené dans un grand champ
Qu’appelions champ de bataille
On s'étripait, on s'épiaulait
C'était pis que de la volaille
Ma foi, la peur m’a pris
J’ai pris mon sac et je suis parti!
(translation)
I had been commanded
To go to war
I don't care though
To abandon our mother
Yet it was necessary
I took my bag and I came
Yet it was necessary
I took my bag and I came
They gave me a big gun
A sword, a game bag
A big condom, a big clothes you
Hanging to the back
And you had to stand straight
As straight as a pick a stake
And you had to stand straight
As straight as a pick a stake
There were some on their horses
Who were a good two meters
With two or three more zoziau
Planted above their heads
And artillon hairs
All around their heels
And artillon hairs
All around their heels
They placed me in action
In front of a citadel
Those who didn't know my name
Called me: “Sentinel!”
To every passing cat
You had to shout: “Quou qu’chi, quou qu’chai!”
To every passing cat
You had to shout: “Quou qu’chi, quou qu’chai!”
They led me to a big field
What we call battlefield
We were tearing each other apart, we were spitting each other out
It was worse than poultry
Well, fear took hold of me
I took my bag and left!
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Artist lyrics: Yves Montand