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On my shoulder

Do you remember this time
Where life seemed sweeter to you
It has already been a while
Sometimes we lose the beat
When for fortune, you had thirty cents
And that happiness was in your pocket
It was before realizing that everything
Holds with wires
 
Put your head on my shoulder
So that my love brushes against you
You who need it so much
It's been ten years and dusts
That we face the winter wind
Together we are not afraid of anything
Tell yourself that tonight my girlfriend
You are not alone in the world
 
Here below, when we bail
It looks like we learn from suffering
It’s surely nothing but psycho-pop
Basically nothing makes sense
But tonight I saw him
The handkerchief of tears in your pocket
I don't like it knowing that you
Hold with wires
 
Put your head on my shoulder
So that my love brushes against you
You who need it so much
It's been ten years and dust
That we face the winter wind
Together we are not afraid of anything
Tell yourself that tonight my girlfriend
You are not alone in the world
 
We get older, the years go by
And each of us does what we can
We run, we fall, and we cram
We try to be happy
A lifetime of patching the holes
Of the time that escapes from our pockets
In a world that everywhere
Holds with wires
 
Put your head on my shoulder
So that my love brushes against you
You who need it so much
It's been ten years and dusts
That we face the winter wind
Together we are not afraid of anything
Tell yourself that tonight my girlfriend
You are not alone in the world
 

If life interests you

I will play the game until the very end
I will work to make all the dough
I want to flash and brag about myself1
I am a sad human of the twenty first century
Don't ask questions, everything's alright
 
Even if I know that everything is going sideway
That half of my salary
Is necessary to merely win the cash
That I need to go to work
I close my eyes, I don't want to think about it
 
I also know that I'm a prisoner
Of a huge cage whose bars are gold
That I live on time I've borrowed
from banks and from credit companies
 
I need my dose, I'm a junkie!
 
If life interests you
You are at the right period
Come and celebrate this Solemn Mass
Do you feel useless?
Consume! We have stuff
to fill up the hole in your servile lives!
 
I live in a world of decadence
That delights itself in abundance
And were people put themselves in a trance
In the face of success and of material goods
We're creating artificial pleasure
 
Society of contradictions
Where rubs shoulder to shoulder bombshell beauties
Stars of hollywood with fake tits
 
And obese with fat asses on the edge of an heart attack
In this hamburger culture
 
And despite the gap becoming wider
Between riches and poverty
Me, I don't feel too concerned
As long as all those stuff
Don't happen in my life
I stick my head in my navel 2
 
If life interests you
You are at the right period
Come and celebrate this Solemn Mass
Do you feel useless?
Consume! We have stuff
to fill up the hole in your servile lives!
 
For the merchants and the sellers
The bullshitting advertisers
My bank account has interests
I'm no longer human, I'm an ATM
 
Supersized stores
Supersized portions for the masses
Capitalism : point of no return
Yes Sir! Here are the States in my backyard3
In my backtard
 
I decided to play the game
I'm in a vicious cycle
Chronically indebted to a system
That is superficial and pernicious
 
A universe where the verb 'to have'
As taken over the verb 'to be'
 
Where all the people make themselves believe
That possession is the only quest
 
Foregone is the times of temples and churches
Those of our civilisation
Are whores to the glory of merchandise
And of the God of Consumption
 
Costco, Wal-shit, oh and Loblaw 4
Life is beautiful Alleluia!
If you don't get hard, there's viagra
And Go bless America!
 

• 1. Litteraly : break the booze
• 2. 'To contemplate one's navel' is a french expression meaning : being egocentric. The author of this song mixes this with the expression 'To stick one head in the sand'
• 3. States = United States
• 4. Pun on the fact that 'mart' vaguely sounds like a vulgar version of shit(marde) : wal-marde

Galaxy Pizza

Versions: #2
My beater slowly cleaves the fog
On the passenger side, two large all-dressed*
The November sky is in tears
Outside, we can't see the addresses
 
The guy on the radio said so earlier
Seems like the economy's busted
Times are hard for delivery men
People don't tip, gas is expensive
 
That's it, I'm going back to the restaurant
To finish my shift, to punch my card
Like the manager just told me
It isn't tonight we're gonna get rich
 
Thanks a lot for the assessment
It just makes me wanna get sloshed
Nevermind, I promised it to AA
I'll stay sober as a judge
 
One day at a time
My beater restarts in the cold
On the passenger side, no more tenderness
The sky of my days is in tears
You never left me an address
 
The weatherman said so earlier
Seems like there's a depression in the air
Times are hard for my li'l heart
Whaddya want, you were dear to me
 
So I'm leaving the restaurant
Alone again with myself
Like the manager just told me
It certainly isn't tonight I'm gonna get laid
 
Cheap shot, but hey, the truth
Comes out of the mouths of sons of bitches**
And, well, I admit it, it sucks to be me
But each day has enough trouble of its own***
 
(Chorus)
Like a beat up star in the night
I hang on my sky and I survive
I so desperately need a friend****
In the vastness of my boredom
I seek the same thing as everybody else
A bit of love on my bruises
Meanwhile I go in circles in the night
In Galaxy Pizza's neighbourhood
 
My beater stays the course in the darkness
On the passenger side, a huge desert
January's sky tells itself scary stories
While casting a warm spell on winter
 
My friend Matéo saw you earlier
Seems like you're back to throwing your life away
Times are good for your dealer
It makes me sad to see you in misery
 
Tonight I'll hold on the steering wheel
Weak bastion against my demons
120 days I've been sober
I swear that sometimes it feels like forever
 
In the end, we weren't alike
You wait until you grow wings
While I only wish to see the sun
Through my freezing windshield
 
(Chorus)
Like a beat up star in the night
I hang on my sky and I survive
I so desperately need a friend
In the vastness of my boredom
I seek the same thing as everybody else
A bit of love on my bruises
Meanwhile I go in circles in the night
In Galaxy Pizza's neighbourhood
 
Meanwhile I go in circles in the night
In Galaxy Pizza's neighbourhood
 

Winter's coming

Get ready for a rough ride, honey,
winter will be tough this year.
The days of plenty are over,
we're having misery for dinner.
I have to get snow tires fitted
to my old rusty crate.
With gas getting more expensive by the day
they know they hold us by the balls.
 
I'm stuck in the traffic every morning
together with millions of human beings
fighting over a bit of highway
without thinking too much of where it's headed,
all alone in their cars,
humming FM tunes
all just as aware as I am how tough life is
but you got to keep on playing.
 
A truck accident on the Mercier bridge, it's a bumber to bumper crawl.
Code red on the subway. Jammed solid every day.
A guy gets cut in and honks the horn, shaking his fist
like a caged lion, stuck in the traffic jams.
Come on, law abiding citizens dreaming of beaches and vacation resorts
in the middle of the Canadian winter. Your job is the only cure.
You'd better watch out though, burn out is on the prowl.
You're working, old chum, and your life flashes past under your nose.
 
Money gets the whole planet going.
Looks like it's pretty serious
since in the higher-ups world
losers don't really belong.
They simply chuck
night and day
their rubbish advertising at us.
They are never out of bullshit to sell.
 
In the shopping mall parking lots
the war rages on yet again.
Cars a mile around
and packet shops.
Santa just showed up,
yey we're not even past mid-November.
Sweet Jesus must feel depressed,
the merchants have come back to the temple.
 
Pay later, buy now.
Credit or cash.
Visa, American Express.
I even cash bullshit checks.
I am the junk dealer,
the cheap dreams seller.
American Dream incarnate.
Fun does come cheap,
come on, step into the dance.
Buy a nice car on credit.
No interest for a year.
Put your ass on heated seats.
Your bland lives will be changed
by my neatly packaged illusions.
Now if you're not happy
there is no refund here.
 
I loan my life to an employer
with working days and sweat drops.
To think we're all whoring
to buy some nice cushions
and realize yet another new trinket
doesn't put joy into your heart.
Because happiness can't be bought
in a cardboard box anyway.
And yet in front of my beer glass
my throat is a parched earth.
I'd gladly have a pick-me-up
to wash away my bad weather,
buy as always I don't have a penny in my pocket,
even now that winter is coming.
 
This translation does not claim to be of any particular value.
Glad if you liked it, sorry if you didn't.
You can reuse it as you please.
Glad if it's for knowledge or understanding, sorry if it's just for money or fame.

Dead Leaves

Horseback riding on dad, straddling
You watch the first dead leaves fall
Far from stress, that make our forehead wrinkle
When our innocence puts the key under the door
 
Since you got here did you know my child laugh
Is ringing again somewhere deep in me
Like an old friend, that I was no longer waiting for
Who comes back to party under my roof
 
In my head cheering, just like the New Year
A rocking chair, my childhood memories
Hello grandma, Happy New Year big nose
So many emotions since you were born
 
You know more we grow old, and it is sad
Wonder loses its feathers on the way
But you are a spark, who rekindles my fires
And everything within me that had long gone out
 
My bursts of laughter in the piles of dead leaves
Merbromin on my little knees
The school where i used my bottom
Slush puppie and the raspberry candies at one cent
 
All these images, a bit damaged
By my shipwrecks and the weight of the years
Relive under my hat, in the head of dad
Just like the maple syrup time after a long winter
 
if one day your carefree laugh of a child
Is carried away by tears
By death, or the I should have
Make you for a time lose your illusions
 
Remember that everything passes by so fast in life
The good and the bad that the wind brings us
And within each of us, hides well buried
Our bursts of laughter in the dead leaves
 

Story of fishing

A small Gaspesien fisherman
Followed his dad every morning
Fifteen and a half and already has sea legs
Under the glow of an old lantern
Accompanied by the stars
Took off the wind in the sails
Every day his father would tell him
When they pulled up the nets
There are so many fish in the St. Lawrence
That we will have until the end of time
 
At the end of 40 seasons
The father of reason
Decided to throw the anchor for good
The small Gaspesien fisherman
That was no longer a child
Happily took over for the old man
Like the fishermen from the area
He wanted to expand
Exchanged the old boat for a bigger one
We cannot stop change
 
The small Gaspesien fisherman
Rolled his hump cheerfully
In the seventies and eighties
And to better run his business
He took his two sons
Just like his dad had with him before
Fishing was booming
It was the time of the great records
They came back every day at low tide
The boat filled with fat cod
 
Then a blow to the region
Only mist on the horizon
It looked like there were fewer fish
Everywhere we denied the obvious
But the rumor ran in the cove
That one would have overestimated the abundance
Since there are no more cod
And that the catches go down
The scientists shouted: stop there!
It was necessary to impose quotas quickly
 
Cod will come back soon
Repeated the most optimistic
Even if many were going straight to bankruptcy
Many young people of the town
Discouraged went off in waves
There are no jobs here what do you want us to do?
When we base an economy
All on the same industry
It's like putting your eggs in one basket
We remain surprised when the basket is empty
 
The small Gaspesian fisherman
Could feel the sadness fill up inside him
When he sees his boys exiled in the distance
Both have dry feet
One in Montreal the other in Quebec
Never again do they smell the oder of kelp
The fish never did return
And his beautiful boat was sold
All thats left is the beautiful landscape
And his memories somewhere at sea