Lyrics and translation Les Ogres De Barback - P'tit Gars

P'tit Gars

C'est un p'tit gars qui n'voudrait pas qu'l'on soit
Restés tous ici-bas qu'des vieux loups solitaires
C'est un clochard qui n'voudrait pas qu'l'on mette
Sur nos yeux des lunettes pour n'les voir qu'en hiver
Lui, sa vie, c'est l'mensonge
Le bonheur ne l'connaît pas

C'est un p'tit gars qui regrette tous les jours
Qui se dit "Dieu est sourd, les hommes tous sédentaires"
Ses insultes, il les éponge
À grands coups d'poing sans pourquoi
Avec sa gueule de défoncé

C'est un p'tit gars qu'aurait fait un braquage
Ce fameux soir de rage, à la mort d'son daron
Cet enculé qui pour élever ses gosses
N'a choisi que des bosses en leur foutant des gnons
Il chiale le jour, il pleure la nuit
À ses yeux, tout est pourri
Et la misère qu'il a dans ses grands yeux
Il la tient de sa mère, prostituée en prison
Y a pas d'futur, y a qu'des ordures
Tout est troué, même ses chaussures

Ouais, ce p'tit gars qu'avait tant besoin d'amour
Le jour, et de tendresse, un soir, est mort d'ivresse
Dans un bistrot près d'Paris en banlieue
Il a noyé ses yeux dans sa dernière Guinness
C'est sûr que j'aimerais bien l'venger
Lui, il m'a juste demandé d'chanter
Ce p'tit refrain pour qu'les gars du quartier
Essayent un peu d's'aimer, que la violence cesse

"C'est qui, lui?" Me direz-vous
C'est sa gueule de p'tit voyou
"C'est qui, lui?" Me direz-vous
C'est sa gueule de p'tit voyou

"C'est qui, lui?" Me direz-vous
C'est sa gueule de p'tit voyou
"C'est qui, lui?" Me direz-vous
C'est sa gueule de p'tit voyou
"C'est qui, lui?" Me direz-vous
C'est sa gueule de p'tit voyou
"C'est qui, lui?" Me direz-vous
C'est sa gueule de p'tit voyou
"C'est qui, lui?" Me direz-vous
C'est sa gueule de p'tit voyou

"C'est qui, lui?" Me direz-vous
C'est sa gueule de p'tit voyou
"C'est qui, lui?" Me direz-vous
C'est sa gueule de p'tit voyou
"C'est qui, lui?" Me direz-vous
C'est sa gueule de p'tit voyou
"C'est qui, lui?" Me direz-vous
C'est sa gueule de p'tit voyou
"C'est qui, lui?" Me direz-vous
C'est sa gueule de p'tit voyou

Little Guy

He's a little guy who wouldn't want us to be
Left here below as lonely old wolves
He's a tramp who wouldn't want us to put on
Glasses over our eyes to see them only in winter
For him, life is a lie
Happiness doesn't know him

He's a little guy who regrets every day
Who says to himself, "God is deaf, men are all sedentary"
He sponges his insults
With big punches for no reason
With his smashed-up face

He's a little guy who would have committed a robbery
That famous night of rage, at the death of his father
That asshole who, to raise his kids
Chose only bumps by giving them punches
He cries during the day, he weeps at night
In his eyes, everything is rotten
And the misery he has in his big eyes
He gets it from his mother, a prostitute in prison
There's no future, there's only garbage
Everything is torn, even his shoes

Yeah, this little guy who needed so much love
During the day, and tenderness, one evening, died of drunkenness
In a bistro near Paris in the suburbs
He drowned his eyes in his last Guinness
Sure, I'd like to avenge him
He just asked me to sing
This little chorus so that the guys in the neighborhood
Try to love each other a little, that the violence stops

"Who is he?" You'll ask me
It's his little thug face
"Who is he?" You'll ask me
It's his little thug face

"Who is he?" You'll ask me
It's his little thug face
"Who is he?" You'll ask me
It's his little thug face
"Who is he?" You'll ask me
It's his little thug face
"Who is he?" You'll ask me
It's his little thug face
"Who is he?" You'll ask me
It's his little thug face

"Who is he?" You'll ask me
It's his little thug face
"Who is he?" You'll ask me
It's his little thug face
"Who is he?" You'll ask me
It's his little thug face
"Who is he?" You'll ask me
It's his little thug face
"Who is he?" You'll ask me
It's his little thug face