Lyrics : Amanda Sthers and Patrick Bruel * Music : Patrick Bruel Translation : Nathalie R.
The school photograph The pink smile of a girl taller than me The mischievous look that follows my grimaces Life that goes by quickly Memories that no longer have enough room And the haughty looks which nearly make me drown myself The passing of time
I’m pretending Pretending I’m tall, I invent myself daddies Tall,ones, strong ones whom I don’t look like But who give me the strengh to believe in myself I’m pretending I’m trembling when I think people might not like me I hold mummy strong, who takes me in her arms I’m pretending nothing will ever happen to me Happen to me
First emotions We study the guitar under the quilt Her mother doesn’t want to hear of me, bullshit Nights vanish And my first love gets in the plane My tears mingle with Milton’s Brazil First song
I’m pretending I’m pretending I am a guy who’s not gonna be taken in I am missing, she will not come back I kiss lips I do not know I’ m pretending I take my lifeless voice at arm’s length I open doors where I know they want me It makes people smile, they say they’ll call me back They don’t call back
And then one day Hands reach out to give me love Voices unite to guide my detours The world around Those who love me and those who count the days Those who make me believe in «forever» Too many people around
I’m pretending Pretending I think I deserve all this I am trembling, those people are here for me I tell me about my life and they can see me I’m not pretending anymore I give my voice its life back The one I am waiting for must be hiding around here She must be well hidden, I can’t see her I can’t see her
On the first day I stand up if they push me in the school yard I am Thierry la Fronde (a famous French fictional character), I always win And time flies...
Lyrics and Music Patrick Bruel Translation : Nathalie R.
I used to talk about love The way we talk about the weather Without having seen it in the daylight Without really knowing it
I used to think about it the way we dream of it I used to dream of it without believing in it Between those hearts on strike And those stories to check out...
I wasn’t expecting you I wasn’t expecting that Iwas not expecting me in that part I wasn’t expecting to read anything else but my book I wasn’t expecting to live Above my lines
In that crowd of lonely people All those lives brushing past one another All those resenting bodies Those sorrows without a shoulder to lie on We breathe the sea breeze The breeze of time, though you wouldn’t think so... We all want to beat it Nobody knows the way
I wasn’t expecting you I wasn’t expecting that Iwas not expecting me in that part I wasn’t expecting to read anything else but my book I wasn’t expecting to live Above my lines
And then I saw your face A clown with sparkling eyes Your sadness in parties And your blushing smile So strong to be fragile Your fears after the night The princesses I read about Were not as weird as you
I wasn’t expecting you I wasn’t expecting that Iwas not expecting me in that part
I used to run without a lantern Towards a fleeing dawn In places where people love each other It is never dark
I wasn’t expecting you I wasn’t expecting that I was not expecting me in that part
And the road was beautiful From my dreams to my life Crispy with lace New curtains and a new bed I asked thousands of questions To my heart, to my mind I dumped the old bachelor In the middle of his «perhaps»
All those never alike days All those perfect mornings When your eyes wake me up With a laughter, a secret I wasn’t expecting that...
Lyrics and Music Patrick Bruel Translation : Nathalie R.
Me who have always written pages of rainy songs Packed and unpacked my luggage hundreds of times Tonight my pencil It liked it better when I was lonely, it was easier to wail Happiness is pretty great but how do you spell it ? No matter if I roam from bar to bar, just like a damned poet Since the night when you put sunlight into my life I have felt I have run out of melancholy
I’ve tried, I’ve tried, I’ve tried to write a sad song To be jealous in my stanzas To go and see sentimental comedies in the cinemas I would have liked it ; would have liked it so much to run under streams of regrets To imagine this was our last kiss I would have liked it but I love you too much to do it.
If you left me for one week, just to let it come I could send you heartbreaking « I love yous » I could walk along the dunes telling myself that it’s over Yes but that’s it : I’ve run out of melancholy I’ve even searched through your handbag to find ideas I’ve seen love notes you write to me in secret I’ve seen photos of boys holding hands
But when I came back home in the evening you were giving them a bath.
I’ve tried, I’ve tried, I’ve tried to write a sad song To sugar the sugar in my coffee And colour with sorrow all the paper napkins To disguise and charm you just to surprise you cheating on me To be the man you’d smile to, embarrasses I would have liked it but you love me too much to do it
Well, OK this is only a small song that will perhaps make you smile But don’t you dare take it seriously between two feeds I ‘m not swapping one of your smiles for a nice song And I hope they will forgive me for running out of melancholy
Lyrics : Amanda Sthers * Music : Patrick Bruel Translation : Nathalie R.
A letter to Father Christmas That you write with your hands And a nice watercolour To show him the way Your very small arms are tossing about To tell me I must write faster That the sleigh is gonna leave That the elves have got to sleep You want a toy bus, a tom-tom An English speaking owl And shoes for the lady Who lives in the open all year long A new heart for grandad Ben You want Louise to give you a kiss Quiet Wednesdays, with no alarms You want to see the country where I was born
Life goes round like a moving merry round about And letters come and die in the snow And beneath the dreams sometimes there are traps Life goes round and hijacks the merry go round But the problem is that not everybody has a seat How do we get on , and how do we protect ourselves ?
For Loic a scatchy pullover An accordion for Leon And then an electric train And sorrows that vanish Fewer people arguing Fewer mourning birds Pillows for battlefields And sweets to heal the memory Easy-to remember pieces of poetry I want my friend to come back I want him to get his hair back so we can have fun I am bored at school when he’s not there Why does life come to an end ? Can love be lent ? Does the Earth go round properly ? Are there gifts for everyone ?
Life goes round like a moving merry round about And letters come and die in the snow And beneath the dreams sometimes there are traps Life goes round and hijacks the merry go round But the problem is that not everybody has a seat How do we get on, and how do we protect ourselves ?
Your little letter wakes me up Words we couldn’t hear anymore And melted snowballs Run from my eyes towards your sky...
Lyrics and Music Patrick Bruel Translation : Nathalie R.
If one evening, my hand slipped on a late page And if my eyes fell on a letter Would I get to know you better ? What can a son know about your trips Your secret loves, the crazy things you did Your errors of youth, your longings Your crazy wisdom and your untrue dreams What can a mummy do to remain beautiful
Tell me, tell me about that life Your modesty forgets We all live several lives So...
Tell me About your loneliness and your heart for only weapons The screen for my tearless childhood Hitch-hicking, prickly pears Argenteuil, Barbara, Italy That guy who walked us through the streets of Roma Whom you let go away like all those men Who wanted to talk to you about eternity But weren’t willing enough to meet me
Tell me... tell me about the mad runnings The movies in the Rue des Ecoles Vincent, françois and paul... Tell me also about the things in your life That painter who smiled to me A family that grew larger
And then tell me more Tell me another story That life before you had me My father, Colomb-Bechar So tell me louder Tell me a little about that life Your modestity forgets We all live several lives
Tell me Maybe you haven’t said everything Tell me...
Lyrics and Music Patrick Bruel Translation : Nathalie R.
She has just left home A croissant, a burst of laughter Her husband tells her she’s pretty But within an hour she’ll be dead She hasn’t chosen her fate She was just there at the wrong moment Because she had to take that train And Madrid mourns her children
Farewell We are all in the dark If you don’t exist At least let us know Farewell I don’t have any more questions My eyes are injured My heart is losing its mind
His wife is expecting a second daughter She swears she won’t have any more children He touches her belly, with shining eyes Why did they have to be at that precise bus stop? Why is this guy so warmly dressed ? It is so hot in Netanya Blood mingles with earth And the world stays voiceless
Farewell We are all in the dark If you no longer exist At least let us know Farewell I can no longer hear History My eyes are tired My heart is losing its memory
9.16 am, he’s late Nearly like every morning But today it’s too late He won’t climb into the tower He can see cries running to him He meets eyes screaming with fear Why those tears, why not him And that dust for ever in his heart
Farewell we are all in the dark If you no longer exist At least let us know farewell There are so many questions My eyes are exhausted My heart is losing its mind
Farewell We are all in the dark If you no longer exist At least let us know farewell They proclaim your name Tell them you were not the one Who wanted all that
Lyrics and Music Patrick Bruel Translation : Nathalie R.
We act high and mighty We sing a bit out of tune We get turned down But girls find us funny December 1980 The weather is fine in NYC I’ve taken my coat You play James Caan, I play Pacino
There we are, as happy as two kids on the run In the middle of a Big apple We manage pretty well We met while looking for the same star At least everything is possible Someone finds me normal
And then the rumour Dakota building And then the stupor John Lennon is dying We share our tears I understand your words We have the same passion The same craving for a new world
There we are, lost like two kids on the run In the middle of a Big apple Which has just suffered a lot We met while mourning the same star You stayed in the Village (Greenwich Village) And I scramed I scramed
Our paths have been crossing for 20 years What are we up to ? What do we expect ? Do your paintings tell your own story ? I would like forthcoming memories I’d like to see your children Imagine... when they are 20
Well come, let’s go like two kids on the run Like when it was easy To play the fools Some stolen hours, just for the sake of it, nothing wrong Just to make sure we are friends That we don’t let life be
Well, let’s invite ourselves like two kids on the run In the middle of a large dance Without suits on and without an invitation A few chords from Slippin’ and Slidin’ Like when it was easy To play the fools Well come...
Lyrics : Amanda Sthers and Patrick Bruel * Music : Patrick Bruel Translation : Nathalie R.
This is a white house, as white as the light and your hair A Tv set is humming as well as it can You stare at me and love me without knowing why I’d like to talk to you if it’s really you Strange disease which makes memory die away Even your first name and your nice stories Strange pictures of life which break away from your memories When you would just want to go... yes, go
Go wherever you want Where life watches you Go where love Has reserved a comeback for you
Go where the wind Will tell you better than me Go where the world Will dance with you
I’ve dressed you in a suit and I have taken out a Clos Vougeot That bastard hasn’t dated ! You smile of your joke with your brand-new kid look
You touch your medals of the past You’ve lost your mind and I have lost you at the dance A waltz of shadows that repeats itself You’ve run a long way to be able to shake off your grief And you hesitate before reaching out, towards the distance
Go wherever you want Where life watches you Go where love Has reserved a comeback for you Go where the wind Will tell you better than me Go where the world Will dance with you
I found you back yesterday on a photograph I remember what you didn’t tell me I found you back, I found myself back too And in my pocket a badly written, yellowed note
Go wherever you want Where life watches you Go where love Has reserved a comeback for you Go where the wind Will tell you better than me Go where the world Will dance with you Go where the wind Will tell you better than me Go where the world Will dance with you
Lyrics : Patrick Bruel * Music : Patrick Bruel and Jérôme Bardon Lewy Translation : Nathalie R.
It was a morning in December Your voice far off on a telephone Dolphins are turning around me That’s funny, they do not come close What do you think of it ? What I think I daren’t say My eyes moisted with tears contain a laugh My heart drowns within a second I look around the flat, smiling
It was true, true at last Setting off for the farthest of our trips And offering each other our prettiest smile That day when love was speaking better than anything It was true, so true That morning when we were leaving for somewhere else The world had just changed colour Smiles were already floating everywhere
I am waiting outside the airport I can see you going out among the crowd Your searching eyes aren’t the same anymore I wish you could know how much I love you How much I love you You pressed my hand on your belly Under the already impatient moon We stared at each other for a long moment As if we had been knowing for a long time Such a long time
It was true, true at last Setting off for the farthest of our trips And offering each other our prettiest smile That day when love was speaking better than anything It was true, so true
So you got out of the water very pale With in your eyes the strength of a star That day when love was speaking better than anything
It was true The world was gonna change colour Smiles were already floating evrywhere It was true And offering each other our prettiest smile That day when life was speaking better that anything
Lyrics : Marie-Florence Gros, Gérard Presgurvic and Patrick Bruel * Music : Gérard Presgurvic Translation : Nathalie R.
Tonight I came across A grey exercice book Well, I had not thrown it away That’s not so badly written I recognized words Pieces of anger Dating back from the time when...
I used to write songs In the corner of my heart Small samples Flowery paper Paper we tear That nobody was ever supposed to read
And I roamed in stations Under the «departure» sign When we think we have time That we’ll take the next one And yet...
Were are the dreams I had when I was 15 ? Where are the fevers My haughty bets Three forgotten chords Come back to ask me... Where are the dramas That took up all my time Where are the tears Forgotten on a bench ? In the voices of harrisson, Polnareff or Brassens We are hear the echo of our story
I didn’t wait The next train I took everything I could Without turning around With my guitar on my back An American rucksack and a short leather jacket T’was too fine
And tonight in that exercice book I met the eyes Of a boy, rather proud Of seeing himself greater than yesterday And yet...
Where are the dreams ? Where do promises go ? Where is my fever ? It guided the wind That yesterday’s wind That is leading me tonight Towards all those trains That left on time Towards all those words We didn’t say before Towards this love That rises,
I take my dreams And I turn them into vows And in my fever That cheeky boy Today I can hear him
Lyrics : Victor Hugo "A ceux qu'on foule aux pieds", adapted by Patrick Bruel * Music : Patrick Bruel Translation : Nathalie R.
And here I am , hesitating Leaning on my table Must I go on ?
Defending the lost one The weak one and that crowd Who, never having had any support, is collapsing
Where is their place In that dead-end street ? Where is my place In front of the mirror
And it is a whole People Which is expecting its salary That People which sometimes Becomes impopular
They should have been guided Taken by the hand Informed about the dark side And about the right way They should have been given Their share of the city And your blindness Strikes them blind too
Where is their place In that dead-end street ? Where is my place In front of the mirror
And how long Will we have to say That it was up to you and you alone To lead them From a mean protection We reap the consequences The harm they do you You did to them before
I have that dark happiness And I feel the brother Of those who are abused Beaten and thunderstruck
Where is their place In that dead-end street ? Where is my place In front of the mirror
And it is a whole People Which is expecting its salary That People which sometimes Becomes impopular
Where is my place In that dead-end street Where is their place In front of the mirror
It is him, sad family Men Women, children Right, future, works Pains that I defend
Where is their place In that dead-end street ? Where is my place In front of the mirror
Where is their place In front of the mirror Where is my place In that dead end street
