Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Tango , by - Bernard Lavilliers. Song from the album Les 50 plus belles chansons, in the genre ЭстрадаRelease date: 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 |