Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Tango, artist - Bernard Lavilliers. Album song Les 50 plus belles chansons, in the genre Эстрада
Date of issue: 25.10.2018
Record label: Barclay
Song language: French
Tango(original) |
Je roulais des mécaniques |
Pendant qu’elle roulait des hanches |
Au fond d’un beuglant magique |
Elle imposait le silence |
A des clients rouge brique |
Buvant du champagne rance |
Qui l’auraient payé cent briques |
Mais elle venait pour la danse |
Elle dansait sa vérité |
Mais son rêve était si fort |
Qu’en plein milieu du troquet |
On sentait passer la mort |
C'était p’t'être à Singapour |
A Rio ou à New-Port |
C'était la nuit pas le jour |
La lune brillait sur le port |
Elle dansait/Elle dansait/Elle dansait/Elle dansait/Elle dansait/Dansait |
J'écrivais à l’encre rouge |
Quelques mots-clés au fond d’un bouge |
Et j’ai trouvé dans un miroir |
Le feu sacré du désespoir |
Parfois Satan me joue des tours |
Cherchant la mort, trouvant l’amour |
Sous l'écran noir des cheveux lourds |
Un oeil rasant sur du velours |
Ses ongles durs dans la lumière |
Traçaient des signes et des mystères |
Et ses mains souples de panthère |
Laissaient des mots pendus en l’air |
Qui peut entendre le silence |
Craquant de signes de la danse |
Connaît à coup sûr la distance |
Entre l’Amour et la violence |
Elle dansait/Elle dansait/Elle dansait/Elle dansait/Dansait/Dansait |
Je roulais des mécaniques |
Pendant qu’elle roulait des hanches |
Au fond d’un beuglant magique |
Elle imposait le silence |
A des clients rouge brique |
Buvant du champagne rance |
Qui l’auraient payé cent briques |
Mais elle venait pour la danse |
(translation) |
I was riding mechanics |
As she rolled her hips |
At the bottom of a magic bellow |
She imposed silence |
To brick red customers |
Drinking rancid champagne |
Who would have paid a hundred bricks |
But she came for the dance |
She was dancing her truth |
But her dream was so strong |
That in the middle of the troquet |
We felt death pass |
It was maybe in Singapore |
In Rio or New Port |
It was night not day |
The moon shone over the harbor |
She was dancing/She was dancing/She was dancing/She was dancing/She was dancing/Dancing |
I was writing in red ink |
A few keywords at the bottom of a den |
And I found in a mirror |
The Sacred Fire of Despair |
Sometimes Satan plays tricks on me |
Seeking death, finding love |
Under the black screen of heavy hair |
A grazing eye on velvet |
Her hard nails in the light |
Traced signs and mysteries |
And her supple panther hands |
Left words hanging in the air |
Who can hear the silence |
Cracking signs of the dance |
Knows the distance for sure |
Between Love and Violence |
She was dancing/She was dancing/She was dancing/She was dancing/Dancing/Dancing |
I was riding mechanics |
As she rolled her hips |
At the bottom of a magic bellow |
She imposed silence |
To brick red customers |
Drinking rancid champagne |
Who would have paid a hundred bricks |
But she came for the dance |