Текст и перевод песни Brigitte Boisjoli - Good Boys

Good Boys

Voilà les jours ensoleillés
Je marche dans la rue en regardant les gens passer
Ma mère m'a toujours répété
Tu reconnais un homme bien à ce qu'il porte à ses pieds!

Oh! Where are all the good boys
Oh! Where are all the good boys

Soudain un mec qui s'avance
De toute évidence, il tente sa chance
Il m'ouvre la porte plein de galanterie
Hélas! Je n'aime pas les souliers trop vernis

Et là au comptoir du Café
Un gars aux cheveux noirs commence à me parler
Ce soir, c'est ton soir! me dit ce mal rasé
Hélas! Je n'aime pas les bottillons trop usés

Oh! Where are all the good boys
Oh! Where are all the good boys

Assise tout près de l'entrée
T'arrives doucement et tu t'assois à mes côtés
C'est vrai, je n'aime pas les espadrilles
Mais j'adore ce feu que tu as dans la pupille

Oh! Where are all the good boys
Oh! Where are all the good boys
Oh! Where are all the good boys
Oh! Where are all the good boys

Ce soir tu m'as donné rendez-vous
J'avoue que j'ai envie de voir de quoi tu as le goût
Même si je ne sais pas de quoi tu seras chaussé
J'y vais de bon cœur, je me suis même maquillée
J'entends déjà claquer tes pas
Mais j'espère que tu auras le soulier qui me va
Les délavés, les détachés, les délacés
Ne seront désormais que des choses du passé
Il ne suffit pas de vouloir me faire prendre mon pied
De me faire tournoyer de tout bord, tout côté
Même si je sais que j'aimerai bien ta carrure
J'espère que tes chaussures auront la bonne pointure

Oh! Where are all the good boys
Oh! Where are all the good boys
Oh! Where are all the good boys
Oh! Where are all the good boys

Oh! Mama tell me when am I gonna meet my man

Good Boys

Here it is sunny days
I walk along the street looking at people passing by
My mother always repeated to me
You can recognize a good man by what he wears on his feet!

Oh, where are all the good boys
Oh, where are all the good boys

Suddenly a guy who comes forward
As you can see, he's taking his chance
He opens the door for me full of gallantry
Alas! I don't like overly polished shoes

And there at the counter of the cafe
A guy with black hair starts talking to me
Tonight, is your night! this unshaven boy tells me
Alas! I don't like overly worn-out boots

Oh, where are all the good boys
Oh, where are all the good boys

Sitting very close to the entrance
You arrive slowly and sit down next to me
It's true, I don't like espadrilles
But I love this fire that you have in your eyes

Oh, where are all the good boys
Oh, where are all the good boys
Oh, where are all the good boys
Oh, where are all the good boys

Tonight you made me an appointment
I confess that I want to see what you taste like
Even if I don't know what shoes you'll be wearing
I go willingly, I even put on some make-up
I can already hear your footsteps
But I hope you'll have the shoe that fits me
The faded, detached, and unlaced ones
Will now be things of the past
It's not enough to want to make me stand up
To make me twirl in every direction
Even if I know that I would like your body
I hope your shoes are the right size

Oh, where are all the good boys
Oh, where are all the good boys
Oh, where are all the good boys
Oh, where are all the good boys

Oh, Mama, tell me, when will I meet my man?