I was born in the dim glow of autumn light with the tune of an accordion and the taste for pink wine as a young man my legs they learn to dance my lips at any chance would steal a little innocence
But my cloths were hand sown, some of my food was stolen That was how we learned to live then, what did you expect from the occupation
Vous n'aurez jamais ma chanson Vous marcherez un long chemin de silence Mon pays ma donne cette chanson Toujours je chanterai, vous salauds!
We kept the radio low and the curtains drawn close It could be your friend, you never knew in the end what was what and for sure
But we would ride our bikes to the countryside Where an old tin band put fire in the night With a song so deep you could see it in our eyes It was the way we'd chosen to fight
Vous n'aurez jamais ma chanson Vous marcherez un long chemin de silence Mon pays ma donne cette chanson Toujours je chanterai, vous salauds