Paroles et traduction Paris Combo - Lettre A P - Live

Lettre A P - Live

Tt, j'ai mang de l'autocar
Avec ses jantes, avec ses phares
Ensuite, j'ai fum une berline
Aux pures essences raffines de benzine

Paris, j'aime ton gasoil
L'odeur de ton excitation-moteur
Paris, tu es la capitale
La lettre P, en sonore initiale

Car tu sens si bon, l't
Sous ta chape de plomb, souffrez
Que j'ai l'inspiration fatale

Tu seras toujours romantique
Mme au temps des pics
Qui goudronnent tes monuments
Et font pleurer tous les yeux des amants

On a souvent chant tes ponts
A coup d'excs d'accordon
Pour l'heure, voil que ces flonflons
Vont louer tes pics de pollution

Avenue Bel-air ou sur les quais
On voudrait respirer en paix, quand on sait
Que tes gaz sont fatals
Ca fait sourire ce P, en initial

Car tu sens si bon, l't
Sous ta chape de plomb, souffrez
Que j'ai l'inspiration fatale

Tu seras toujours romantique
Mme au temps des pics
Qui goudronnent tes monuments
Et font pleurer tous les yeux des amants

Un P, comme pas vu, pas pris
Un A, comme atmosphre
Un R, comme le bon air de Paris
I, c'est l'asphyxie

Et S, vraiment bon esprit
De nous faire inhaler ainsi
Parmi les squares et les alles
De si dangereux fumets

Car tu sens si bon, l't
Sous ta chape de plomb, souffrez
Que j'ai l'inspiration fatale

Tu seras toujours romantique
Mme au temps des pics
Qui goudronnent tes monuments
Et font pleurer tous les yeux des amants

Letter to P - Live

I ate the bus,
With its rims, with its headlights,
Then I smoked a sedan,
To the pure, refined essences of gasoline.

Paris, I love your diesel,
The scent of your throbbing engine,
Paris, you are the capital,
The letter P, as a sonorous initial,

Because you smell so good, P
Under your leaden cloak, I suffer,
As my fatal inspiration comes upon me.

You will always be romantic,
Even in the time of peaks,
Which blacktop your monuments,
And make the eyes of all lovers weep.

We have often sung your bridges,
With a flurry of accordions,
For now, here are these tunes,
To praise your peaks of pollution.

On Avenue Bel-air or along the quays,
We would like to breathe in peace, when we know
That your gasses are fatal,
It makes this P, as an initial, seem funny.

Because you smell so good, P
Under your leaden cloak, I suffer,
As my fatal inspiration comes upon me.

You will always be romantic,
Even in the time of peaks,
Which blacktop your monuments,
And make the eyes of all lovers weep.

A P, as in, didn't see it, didn't take it,
An A, as in atmosphere,
An R, as in the good air of Paris,
I, as in asphyxiation,

And an S, in truly good spirits,
To have us breathe in this way,
In the midst of squares and alleyways,
Such dangerous fumes.

Because you smell so good, P
Under your leaden cloak, I suffer,
As my fatal inspiration comes upon me.

You will always be romantic,
Even in the time of peaks,
Which blacktop your monuments,
And make the eyes of all lovers weep.