Lyrics of Marche des dos - Aristide Bruant

Marche des dos - Aristide Bruant
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Marche des dos, artist - Aristide Bruant.
Date of issue: 13.02.2011
Song language: French

Marche des dos

(original)
A bas la romance et l’idylle,
Les oiseaux, la forêt, le buisson,
Des marlous, de la grande ville,
Nous allons chanter la chanson !
V’là les dos, vivent les dos !
C’est les dos les gros,
Les beaux,
A nous les marmites !
Grandes ou petites
V’là les dos, vivent les dos !
C’est les dos les gros,
Les beaux,
A nous les marmites et vivent les dos !
Marlous, nos marmites sont belles,
Le bourgeois les adore, à genoux,
Et Paris, qui compte avec elles,
Est forcé d’compter avec nous.
V’là les dos, vivent les dos !
C’est les dos les gros,
Les beaux,
A nous les marmites !
Grandes ou petites
V’là les dos, vivent les dos !
C’est les dos les gros,
Les beaux,
A nous les marmites et vivent les dos !
Le riche a ses titres en caisse,
Nous avons nos valeurs en jupon,
Et malgré la hausse ou la baisse,
Chaque soir on touche un coupon,
V’là les dos, vivent les dos !
C’est les dos les gros,
Les beaux,
A nous les marmites !
Grandes ou petites
V’là les dos, vivent les dos !
C’est les dos les gros,
Les beaux,
A nous les marmites et vivent les dos !
Le pante a beau faire des largesses,
Il ne peut être aimé comme nous,
Il a beau fader nos gonzesses,
Il n’sait pas leur foutre des coups.
V’là les dos, vivent les dos !
C’est les dos les gros,
Les beaux,
A nous les marmites !
Grandes ou petites
V’là les dos, vivent les dos !
C’est les dos les gros,
Les beaux,
A nous les marmites et vivent les dos !
La rousse a beau serrer les mailles
Du filet qu’elle tend aux déchus,
Nous savons, grâce à nos écailles,
Glisser entre ses doigts crochus.
V’là les dos, vivent les dos !
C’est les dos les gros,
Les beaux,
A nous les marmites !
Grandes ou petites
V’là les dos, vivent les dos !
C’est les dos les gros,
Les beaux,
A nous les marmites et vivent les dos !
Pourtant, les jours de guillotine,
Quand la loi raccourcit un marlou,
Nous allons lui chanter matine,
Pendant qu’on lui coupe le cou.
V’là les dos, vivent les dos !
C’est les dos les gros,
Les beaux,
A nous les marmites !
Grandes ou petites
V’là les dos, vivent les dos !
C’est les dos les gros,
Les beaux,
(translation)
Down with romance and idyll,
The birds, the forest, the bush,
From the hoodlums, from the big city,
We'll sing the song!
Here come the backs, long live the backs!
It's the big backs,
The beautifuls,
We have the pots!
Big or small
Here come the backs, long live the backs!
It's the big backs,
The beautifuls,
We have the pots and long live the backs!
Marlous, our pots are beautiful,
The bourgeois adores them, on his knees,
And Paris, which counts with them,
Is forced to reckon with us.
Here come the backs, long live the backs!
It's the big backs,
The beautifuls,
We have the pots!
Big or small
Here come the backs, long live the backs!
It's the big backs,
The beautifuls,
We have the pots and long live the backs!
The rich have their securities in cash,
We have our values ​​in petticoat,
And despite rising or falling,
Every night we touch a coupon,
Here come the backs, long live the backs!
It's the big backs,
The beautifuls,
We have the pots!
Big or small
Here come the backs, long live the backs!
It's the big backs,
The beautifuls,
We have the pots and long live the backs!
The pante may give largesse,
He cannot be loved like us,
He faded our chicks,
He doesn't know how to kick them.
Here come the backs, long live the backs!
It's the big backs,
The beautifuls,
We have the pots!
Big or small
Here come the backs, long live the backs!
It's the big backs,
The beautifuls,
We have the pots and long live the backs!
The redhead has nicely tighten the stitches
From the net she spreads to the fallen,
We know, thanks to our scales,
Slipping through her crooked fingers.
Here come the backs, long live the backs!
It's the big backs,
The beautifuls,
We have the pots!
Big or small
Here come the backs, long live the backs!
It's the big backs,
The beautifuls,
We have the pots and long live the backs!
Yet on guillotine days,
When the law shortens a rascal,
We will sing to him matin,
While they cut off his neck.
Here come the backs, long live the backs!
It's the big backs,
The beautifuls,
We have the pots!
Big or small
Here come the backs, long live the backs!
It's the big backs,
The beautifuls,
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A Montrouge 2003
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Artist lyrics: Aristide Bruant