Mon pote le gitan [English translation]

My gypsy friend

He's a strange guy

A dark face

A blue gaze

He can stay hours

Without a word

Sitting by the stove

In the back of the pub

This guy, a caravan

Is riding in his head

And when it's on its way

It's never stopping

Loads of landscapes

Shine through his eyes

My gypsy friend

He's a strange guy

My gypsy friend

He's no joker

And at our pub

No one understands

Like those guys

He's got a guitar

All caked in dirt

that gets you down

When he starts playing

The old caravan

Races in his head

The card players (1)

Hold still and silent

You feel bad inside

My gypsy friend

He's no joker

My gypsy friend

Left one day

And God only knows where

He's wandering

That guy was a great musician

This I knew for sure

I could feel it

The owner told me

People came for him

A big music-hall

Wanted to hire him

My gypsy friend

He refused the offer

He just shrugged and left

I felt like

I had lost a friend

Although that guy

Never talked to me

Yet he left me

A corner of his caravan

And in my small brain

I got dreams rolling on

His weird music

Stayed in me

When I think of him

I sometimes happen to sing

Bloody gypsy

Who smelled of depression

Your music was actually

Filled with hope

• Artist:Yves Montand