Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Terre promise, artist - Eric Lapointe.
Date of issue: 06.05.2002
Song language: French
Terre promise(original) |
J’entre avec l’aube, |
Dans le village endormi. |
Mon vieux sac de cuir l’paule; |
tranger, en ce pays. |
Cern, besoin de repos, |
D’un caf, d’un bain chaud. |
D’un lit, bord de draps blancs |
Terre promise, de l’itinrant. |
En chemin, la crasse est de mise |
Et c’est pourquoi je m’en dguise; |
Destin sans aucun doute |
longer les autoroutes. |
Rien dans les poches j’me promne, |
Au gr des saisons. |
Pouss par le vent, |
Au chemin je m’accroche, la bohme |
N’appartient qu' l’horizon. |
Partout o la route te mne, |
Quelqu’un t’attend (2 fois) |
Embrassant l’interdit, |
Toujours l'њil sur la sortie; |
Je suis le passager, clandestin, |
qui les cocus parlent avec leurs points. |
Pass matre l’Arnaque, |
J’ai plus d’un tour dans mon sac, |
Enjleur, menteur et bandit, |
Je cavale sans rpit. |
Certain diront «Mprisez ce minable!» |
J’ai pourtant la richesse du nomade! |
Chaque jour j’use mes souliers, |
Sur le dos de la libert! |
Nul n’est l’abri, |
De ce mal sans merci, |
De l’appel de la patrie, |
Que j’entends aujourd’hui. |
Terre Natale, |
Sourit car demain |
Ton enfant, revient! |
Pouss par le vent |
Ton enfant revient |
Pouss par le vent |
Ton enfant revient |
Pouss par le vent, |
Demain, je reviendrai! |
Pouss par le vent |
Ton enfant revient! |
(translation) |
I enter with the dawn, |
In the sleepy village. |
My old leather shoulder bag; |
stranger, in this country. |
Cern, need a rest, |
A coffee, a hot bath. |
Of a bed, edge of white sheets |
Promised land, of the itinerant. |
Along the way, dirt is in order |
And that is why I disguise myself; |
Destiny without a doubt |
along the highways. |
Nothing in my pockets, I walk around, |
With the seasons. |
Driven by the wind, |
To the way I cling, the bohemian |
Only belongs to the horizon. |
Wherever the road takes you, |
Someone is waiting for you (2 times) |
Embracing the forbidden, |
Always eye on the exit; |
I am the passenger, stowaway, |
who cuckolds talk with their dots. |
Pass master the Scam, |
I have more than one trick in my bag, |
Stalker, liar and bandit, |
I ride relentlessly. |
Some will say, "Scorn that wretch!" |
Yet I have the wealth of the nomad! |
Every day I wear out my shoes, |
On the back of freedom! |
No one is safe, |
From this merciless evil, |
From the call of the fatherland, |
What I hear today. |
Homeland, |
Smile because tomorrow |
Your child, come back! |
Pushed by the wind |
Your child is coming back |
Pushed by the wind |
Your child is coming back |
Driven by the wind, |
Tomorrow I will be back! |
Pushed by the wind |
Your child is coming back! |