Lyrics of Valse de Melody - Serge Gainsbourg

Valse de Melody (original)

Je serais content quand tu seras mort, vieille canaille
Je serais content quand tu seras mort, vieille canaille
Tu ne paies rien pour attendre, je saurais bien te descendre,
Je serais content d’avoir ta peau vieux chameau.
Je t’ai reu bras ouvert vieille canaille,
Tu avais toujours ton couvert vieille canaille,
Tu as brul tout mes tapis, tu t’es couch dans mon lit,
Tu as bu tout mon porto, vieux chameau,
Puis, je t’ai prsent ma femme, vieille canaille,
Puis, je t’ai prsent ma femme, vieille canaille,
Tu lui as fait du baratin, tu l’as embrass dans les coins,
Ds que j’avais tourn le dos vieux chameau,
Puis t’es parti avec elle, vieille canaille,
T’es parti avec elle vieille canaille,
Emportant la vaisselle, le dessus de lit en dentelle,
L’argenterie, les rideaux vieux chameau,
Et j’ai sorti mon fusil vieille canaille,
Et j’ai sorti mon fusil vieille canaille,
Quand je te tiendrais au bout, je rigolerais un bon coup,
Et je t’aurais vite refroidi vieux bandit.
On te mettra dans une tombe vieille canaille,
Et moi j’irai faire la bombe, vieille canaille,
A coup de petits verres d’eau de vie,
La plus belle cuite de ma vie,
Sera pour tes funerailles, vieille canaille.

(translation)

I'll be happy when you're dead, old scoundrel
I'll be happy when you're dead, old scoundrel
You don't pay nothing to wait, I could shoot you,
I would be glad to have your old camel skin.
I received you with open arms old scoundrel,
You still had your cutlery old scoundrel,
You burned all my carpets, you lay in my bed,
You drank all my port, old camel,
Then I introduced you to my wife, old scoundrel,
Then I introduced you to my wife, old scoundrel,
You gave him spiel, you kissed him in the corners,
As soon as I turned my back old camel,
Then you left with her, old scoundrel,
You left with her old scoundrel,
Taking away the dishes, the lace bedspread,
The silverware, the old camel curtains,
And I took out my old scoundrel rifle,
And I took out my old scoundrel rifle,
When I hold you down, I'll have a good laugh,
And I would have quickly cooled you down old bandit.
We'll put you in a grave old scoundrel,
And I'm going to make the bomb, old scoundrel,
With small glasses of brandy,
The most beautiful cooked of my life,
Will be for your funeral, old scoundrel.