No, this wasn't the raft of the Medusa, This boat of ours. Let them tell each other that Deep in the harbours and ports It sailed along, taking it easy On the big duck pond, And they called it Friends First, Friends first of all.
Its "fluctuat nec mergitur" Were not exactly literature, Begging the pardon of magicians and sorcerers, Magicians and sorcerers. The captain and his crew Were not sons of bitches, But mates, as good as you could get, Best mates first of all. They weren't high quality friends Like Castor and Pollux Or the guys of Sodom and Gomorrha, Sodom and Gomorrha. They weren't friends chosen By Montaigne and La Boétie, But they were mates and got on well together, Friends first of all.
They weren't angels either, They hadn't managed to get round to reading the gospel, But in friendship they sailed towards each other in full rigging, In full rigging. Jean, Pierre, Paul and the rest, And this was their only Litany, Their Credo and their Confiteor, Friends first of all.
At the slightest hint of Trafalgar, It was friendship which took over the watch, That was what gave them their bearings, Gave them their bearings. And when they were in distress, And their arms signalled SOS, You would have said they were signalling "Friends first of all." When the mates met up, It wasn't often that one of them was missing, If there was a gap, he must be dead, He must be dead. But never, absolutely never Did the hole in the water close over him. A hundred years later, would you believe it, They would miss him still.
Non, ce n'était pas le radeau De la Méduse, ce bateau, Qu'on se le dis' au fond des ports, Dis' au fond des ports, Il naviguait en pèr' peinard Sur la grand-mare des canards, Et s'app'lait les Copains d'abord Les Copains d'abord. Ses fluctuat nec mergitur C'était pas d'la litteratur', N'en déplaise aux jeteurs de sort, Aux jeteurs de sort, Son capitaine et ses mat'lots N'étaient pas des enfants d'salauds, Mais des amis franco de port, Des copains d'abord. C'étaient pas des amis de lux', Des petits Castor et Pollux, Des gens de Sodome et Gomorrh', Sodome et Gomorrh', C'étaient pas des amis choisis Par Montaigne et La Boéti', Sur le ventre ils se tapaient fort, Les copains d'abord. C'étaient pas des anges non plus, L'Evangile, ils l'avaient pas lu, Mais ils s'aimaient tout's voil's dehors, Tout's voil's dehors, Jean, Pierre, Paul et compagnie, C'était leur seule litanie Leur Credo, leur Confitéor, Aux copains d'abord. Au moindre coup de Trafalgar, C'est l'amitié qui prenait l'quart, C'est elle qui leur montrait le nord, Leur montrait le nord. Et quand ils étaient en détresse, Qu'leur bras lancaient des S.O.S., On aurait dit les sémaphores, Les copains d'abord. At the slightest hint of Trafalgar, It was friendship which took over the watch, That was what gave them their bearings, Gave them their bearings. And when they were in distress, And their arms signalled SOS, You would have said they were signalling "Friends first of all."
Au rendez-vous des bons copains, Y'avait pas souvent de lapins, Quand l'un d'entre eux manquait a bord, C'est qu'il était mort. Oui, mais jamais, au grand jamais, Son trou dans l'eau n'se refermait, Cent ans après, coquin de sort ! Il manquait encore. Des bateaux j'en ai pris beaucoup, Mais le seul qui'ait tenu le coup, Qui n'ait jamais v