Lyrics of Le balafré - Thomas Fersen

Le balafré (original)

Il lui manquait quatre phalanges
Ça lui donnait pas l’air d’un ange
Avec son œil sous un bandeau
Et sa gueule en lame de couteau
Sous son vêtement, doux Jésus
Tout son corps était recousu
Et quand il remontait ses manches
Les femmes devenaient toutes blanches
Il menait une vie de cigale
Il jouait de la scie musicale
Il trouvait qu’en fermant les yeux
Son instrument sonnait mieux
Le balafré
Sa mère croyait de bonne foi
Qu’il s’en allait couper du bois
C’est pas qu’il fût je-m'en-foutiste
Il avait une âme d’artiste
Dans un cabaret de Pigalle
Il jouait de la scie musicale
Il trouvait qu’en fermant les yeux
Son instrument sonnait mieux
Le balafré
Il aimait la vie de théâtre
Il aimait les stucs et les plâtres
Les filles habillées en lapin
Plutôt que l’odeur du sapin
Et à la pause syndicale
Leur jouait de la scie musicale
Il trouvait qu’en fermant les yeux
Son instrument sonnait mieux
Le balafré
On retrouva au parc Monceau
Une bourgeoise coupée en morceaux
Le balafré passait par là
Il avait sa scie sous son bras
Tout le monde croyait de bonne foi
Qu’il s’en allait couper du bois
C’est pas qu’il fût je-m'en-foutiste
Il avait une âme d’artiste
Il menait une vie de cigale
Il jouait de la scie musicale
Il trouvait qu’en fermant les yeux
Son instrument sonnait mieux
Le balafré

(translation)

He was missing four knuckles
It didn't make her look like an angel
With his eye under a blindfold
And his mouth like a knife
Under his garment, sweet Jesus
His whole body was sewn up
And when he rolled up his sleeves
The women were turning all white
He led a cicada life
He played the musical saw
He found that by closing his eyes
His instrument sounded better
The scarred
His mother believed in good faith
That he was going to cut wood
It's not that he was I don't care
He had an artistic soul
In a cabaret in Pigalle
He played the musical saw
He found that by closing his eyes
His instrument sounded better
The scarred
He loved the theater life
He loved stuccos and plasters
Girls dressed as bunny
Rather than the smell of fir
And at the union break
Played them musical saw
He found that by closing his eyes
His instrument sounded better
The scarred
We found at Parc Monceau
A bourgeoise cut into pieces
Scarface was passing by
He had his saw under his arm
Everyone believed in good faith
That he was going to cut wood
It's not that he was I don't care
He had an artistic soul
He led a cicada life
He played the musical saw
He found that by closing his eyes
His instrument sounded better
The scarred