Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Le Linge Sèche Au Vent , by - Makali. Release date: 31.12.2007
Song language: French
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Le Linge Sèche Au Vent , by - Makali. Le Linge Sèche Au Vent(original) |
| Le linge sèche au vent |
| Maman m’appelle |
| Tête baissée, pieds devant |
| Je cours vers elle. |
| Elle a passé sa main |
| dans mes cheveux |
| Un conte sans unifin |
| d’un genre heureux |
| Elle a passé ses mains |
| sur mon visage |
| mais mes yeux filaient au loin: |
| le paysage. |
| j'étais bien trop sérieux |
| pour etre sage |
| et je |
| comprenais déjà toutes les images |
| J'étais bien trop peureux |
| mais j’envisage |
| désormais d'éclairicir |
| tout mon attelage |
| remplacer le torchis |
| par du carrelage |
| et la tole froissée aussi |
| oui j’envisage |
| Mais mes yeux brillaient un peu |
| brillaient beaucoup. |
| Lorsqu’on me soufflait d'être vieux |
| je riais surtout. |
| mon père et son sourire |
| quand je m’endors |
| me laisse le souvenir d’une dent en or. |
| Mais la peste dans nos veines coule encore. |
| Il me semble certains on vous le dira en sont morts. |
| Les violons, les chiens galeux, le bruit dehors |
| ferait de nous des misereux de temple en or. |
| Etirés par le temps |
| ma cariole roule |
| à travers champs à travers foule |
| ennivre par les chants |
| ma carriere roule |
| à travers chants, à travers foule |
| mais cette liberté en cage, |
| on la mérite. |
| au point que les paturages, |
| j’y médite |
| l’histoire de quelques pages |
| on la mérite |
| tout comme l’idiot à son village |
| alors j’y médite |
| Mais mes yeux brillaient un peu |
| brillaient beaucoup |
| lorsqu’on me soufflait d'être vieux |
| je riais surtout |
| mon père et son sourire |
| quand je m’endors |
| me laisse le souvenir d’une dent en or. |
| Un jour je serai riche et vieux, |
| si je peux |
| Des pierres et des diamants tant que j’en veux |
| mais tant que ma cariole roule à travers champs à traverse foule, |
| je me soule en souriant. |
| mais mes yeux brillaient un peu |
| brillaient beaucoup |
| lorsqu’on me soufflait d'être vieux |
| je riais surtout |
| mon père et son sourire |
| quand je m’endors |
| me laisse le souvenir d’un sourire en or. |
| (translation) |
| The laundry dries in the wind |
| Mom calls me |
| Head down, feet forward |
| I run towards her. |
| She passed her hand |
| in my hair |
| A Tale Without a Unifin |
| kinda happy |
| She ran her hands |
| on my face |
| but my eyes sped away: |
| the landscape. |
| I was way too serious |
| to be wise |
| and I |
| already understood all the pictures |
| I was way too scared |
| but i'm considering |
| now to clarify |
| all my hitch |
| replace cob |
| by tiles |
| and the crumpled sheet too |
| yes i am considering |
| But my eyes were shining a little |
| shone a lot. |
| When I was told to be old |
| I was mostly laughing. |
| my father and his smile |
| when i fall asleep |
| leaves me with the memory of a golden tooth. |
| But the plague in our veins still runs. |
| It seems to me some people will tell you died of it. |
| The fiddles, the mangy dogs, the noise outside |
| would make us miserable in a golden temple. |
| Stretched by time |
| my cart is rolling |
| through fields through crowds |
| intoxicated by songs |
| my career is rolling |
| through songs, through crowds |
| but this caged freedom, |
| we deserve it. |
| so much so that the pastures, |
| I meditate there |
| the story of a few pages |
| we deserve it |
| just like the idiot to his village |
| then I meditate on it |
| But my eyes were shining a little |
| shone a lot |
| when I was told to be old |
| I was mostly laughing |
| my father and his smile |
| when i fall asleep |
| leaves me with the memory of a golden tooth. |
| One day I'll be rich and old, |
| if I can |
| Stones and diamonds all I want |
| but as long as my cart rolls through fields through crowds, |
| I get drunk smiling. |
| but my eyes were shining a little |
| shone a lot |
| when I was told to be old |
| I was mostly laughing |
| my father and his smile |
| when i fall asleep |
| leaves me with the memory of a golden smile. |