Lyrics of Tico Tico - Arielle Dombasle

Tico Tico (original)

Tico-Tico par-ci, TicoTico par-l
Dans tout Seville, on n’entend plus que ce nom l Il passe par ici, il va passer par l Comme il est beau dans son costume de gala!
Coiffe d’un sombrero, les cuisses bien plat
Sur son cheval, il se promene petits pas
Da sa moustache en croc lustree de gomina
Il fait rever tous les jupons de la rambla.
On dit tout bas que son grand-pere etait corsaire
Qu’il faisait la traite des noirs Buenos Aires
Et patati et patata, dans la maison qu’il habita
Tout le gratin de l’Alcala y defila
Tico-Tico devint l’unique legataire
De son magot, de son cheval et de ses terres
Il peut garder devant chacun son sombrero
C’est un vrai Caballero, Tico-Toco.
Tico-Tico par-ci, Tico par-l
Mais que fait-il exactement ce garcon-l
Sur le coup de midi, il prend son malaga
Pour remplir toute une journee ca n’suffit pas…
Pour etre plus precis, un jour on le pressa
De s’expliquer la police sur son cas
Mais un gendarme dit quand on le relacha:
«Il n’y avait vraiment pas d’quoi fouetter un chat…»
On dit tout bas que son grand-pere etait corsaire
Qu’il faisait la traite des noirs Buenos Aires
Tico-Tico par correction a pris la meme profession
Mais il a du, pour son honneur, changer d’couleur
Et plein d’amour pour la maison de son grand-pere
Il l’a toujours mais pour la rendre plus prospere
Il a seulement fait agrandir le numero
C’est un vrai Caballero, Tico-Tico

(translation)

Tico-Tico here, TicoTico here
In all Seville, you only hear this name l He passes by here, he will pass by l How handsome he is in his gala costume!
Wearing a sombrero, flat thighs
On his horse he takes small steps
From his hairbrushed croc mustache
It makes all the petticoats of the rambla dream.
It is said quietly that his grandfather was a corsair
That he was trafficking in blacks Buenos Aires
And patati and patata, in the house he lived in
All the gratin of Alcala y defiled
Tico-Tico became the sole legatee
Of his hoard, his horse and his land
He can keep his sombrero in front of everyone
He's a real Caballero, Tico-Toco.
Tico-Tico over here, Tico over there
But what exactly is this boy doing?
At the stroke of noon, he takes his malaga
To fill a whole day is not enough...
To be more precise, one day he was pressed
To explain the police on his case
But a constable said when he was released:
"There really was nothing to whip a cat..."
It is said quietly that his grandfather was a corsair
That he was trafficking in blacks Buenos Aires
Tico-Tico by correction took the same profession
But he had to, for his honor, change color
And full of love for his grandfather's house
He still has it but to make it more prosperous
He only enlarged the number
He's a real Caballero, Tico-Tico