COCONUT TREE

Music by Julien Vega
Lyrics by John Greaves & Julien Vega

I’VE BEEN TO PARIS AND LONDON
IT’S ALL WORK THERE’S NO FUN
PUSHING, SHOVING ALL AROUND
NOBODY’S HAPPY I’LL BE BOUND

I’VE BEEN TO MOSCOW AND TO TORONTO
NEVER SEEN SO MUCH SNOW
THIS IS NOT THE PLACE TO BE
10 BELOW IS NOT FOR ME

THE SEA THE SUN AND THE COCONUT TREE
THAT IS ALL YOU NEED TO SEE
THERE’S NO BETTER PLACE TO BE
THE SEA, THE SUN AND A COCONUT TREE

ONE THING I’M SURE OF
I NEED SOME MORE OF
ENCORE, ENCORE OF
THE SEA THE SUN AND THE COCONUT TREE


I BEEN TO TOKYO AND NEW YORK
ALL THEM SIGNS SAY STOP DON’T WALK
I JUST WANT TO FLY AWAY
BACK TO WHERE THE STEEL BANDS PLAY

THAT IS ALL THAT I WANT TO SAY

THE SEA THESUN AND A COCONUT TREE
THAT IS ALL YOU NEED TO SEE
THERE’S NO BETTER PLACE TO BE
THE SEA, THE SUN AND THE COCONUT TREE

GOLDEN BOY
Music by Julien VegaLyrics by John Greaves & Julien Vega

On the floor of Wall Street I’m one of a kindI’m no ordinary guyIf I sell or I buy I don’t even tryI can make a million dollars in the blink of an eye

Making a fortune is easy for meHow hard can it be?
I’ll probably never get old
Everything that I touch turns to gold


I’m flying high, I’m a fortunate guyBut try as I mightThere’s something that doesn’t sit rightAnd I think I know why


One thing I know that my money can’t buyThat’s love, think about it

Making and breaking and takingDoesn’t matter how big your greed is


When what you need isSomeone who’s pretty and witty and niceWho’s life doesn’t turn on a roll of the dice
Who not so convinced everything has a price
I don’t think twiceThat’s what I need
Making a fortune is easy for meHow hard can it be?Excuse me but I’m on a rollYou see that all that I touch turns to gold
I’m flying highI’m a fortunate guyAnd I don’t know whyI simply don’t burst into songOnly one thing is wrong
One thing I know that my money can’t buyThat’s love, think about it

Making and breaking and takingAll you do is feed what your greed is


When what you need isSomeone who’s pretty and witty and niceWho’s life doesn’t turn on a roll of the dice
Who’s not so convinced everything has a price
I don’t think twice
I knowLove is what I need

Sur les toits de Paris la nuitLes Apaches* sont réunisEt dans l’éclat de lune qui blanchit les maisonsDes ombres se projettent en longIls préparent un coup vengeurLa lame de couteau sur le cœurEt demain on lira dans les journaux du soir
:«
Un homme a succombé dans le noir
»
Ah
! regardez-les passer quand ils glissent sans bruitFilant à travers les rues d’un quartier de Paris
Ils n’ont pas l’air de s’en faire et partent à la conquêteDes filles qu’ils font danser le soir au bal musetteEt sur les accords vibrants d’un vieil accordéonMurmurent les mots d’amour qui donnent le frissonMais ils finiront un jour reclus à la Roquette*Et regretterons le temps qui fait perdre la tête...
Au bord du Canal St MartinDans la froideur d’un p’tit matinUne étrange silhouette s’arrête un court instantEst-ce un marinier ou un passant
?L’onde calme soudain s’agiteUne forme se précipiteEt dans le rouge sang d’un fugace refletUn corps disparaît à tout jamais
Écoutez filles des faubourgsPrenez garde aux trop beaux discoursLes serments prononcés à la lueur d’un lampionSont là pour vous faire perdre raisonSi le cœur de Paris la nuitVous entraîne dans ses foliesDieu sait où les baisers de ces mauvais garçonsUn jour ou l’autre vous conduiront
?

English translation :
Apaches
On the rooftops of ParisThe Apaches meetAnd as the white light of the moon shines on the houses belowAnd the shadows lengthenThey are preparing their revengeKnife blade on their heartsAnd tomorrow we will read in the evening papers:“A man succumbed in the darkness”
Ah
! Watch them slip silently by
Criss crossing the streets of the Parisian quartierThey don’t seem too concerned and set out to win the heartsOf the girlsThey dance with in the evening at the bal musette*And to the
Moving vibrato of an old accordionThey whisper sweet nothings to make heart flutterBut they will end up one day in the RoquetteAnd will regret these heady moments
On the banks of the Saint Martin CanalIn the chill of the early hoursA strange silhouette halts just for a momentIs it a bargeman or a passer-by?Suddenly the calm waters are disturbedA shadow flees byAnd in the red blood of a fleeting reflexionA body disappears forever
Listen you faubourg girlsBeware of pretty storiesVows pronounced by the light of a Chinese lanternAre there to make you loose your headsIf the heart of Paris by nightLeads you into a follyLord knows where these bad boy’s kissesWill take you one day or another.