C'est mon dernier bal [English translation]

In the Créteil (Paris) movie theaters

they were only playing pornos.

I wasn't so much in the mood,

I've seen them already.

I told my gang (of pals) :

There's a ball in Sarcelles (Paris),

let's go.

There will be maybe some pussies.

And it's bee a while

that we didn't had a good fight

with cops

or with folks.

It's my last party,

my last going out,

tomorrow in the papers

my face will be printed.

We took the bikes

and took off

direction street fight,

cheap beer.

But we didn't come empty handed,

we took

two or three "appetizers"

you're not allowed to carry on you.

We don't want to push it,

I'm no crazy,

but all truth told

I'm no angel neither.

That's my last ball,

my last going out,

in tomorrow's newspaper

there will be my photo.

Arriving at the door

we messed up with the poor ticket girl :

We didn't want to pay

25 bucks it's fucking too expensive.

So we took the opportunity

that, for once, there was no

security guys from K.C.P. around

to enter anyway.

And so we went

straight to the bar

where we drained

each of our height beer cans.

That's my last party,

my last going out,

tomorrow's newspaper

will print my face.

There was a bunch of guys

on the dance floor other side

who were staring at us heard

since quite a while.

We rubbed each other.

It was no kids' play.

Then we made peace

with laughing beer cheers.

In parties nowdays

we express ourselves, let some steam off,

a big wooden club hit,

a fractured bone does sober one up.

That's my last party,

my last going out.

In tomorrow's newspaper

there will be my face.

And this silly dude

who was playing the accordion

we wade him eat it

suspenders included.

Now he got a nice pair

of good pearly lungs

and as soon he's coughing

he throw up some buttons.

When it went messy

into an overall fight,

we saw appearing

the local milices (police).

That's my last party,

my last going out.

In tomorrow's newspaper

there will be my face.

With my fake alarm pistol

I was looking dumb

before the Winchester

of the city mayor's right hand.

He told me "Do not come closer,

one move you're dead."

I shouldn't have moved,

now I'm dead.

In life, little bro,

can't escape it,

nothing's more dangerous

than getting being killed.

That's my last show.

I got one.

Fuck !, it's so fucking painful

to die under the moon.

This is my last party,

my last going out.

In tomorrow's newspaper

there will be my face.

• Artist:Renaud
• Album:Ma Gonzesse (1979)