J’ai rêvé que tu partaisJ’ai rêvé que tu étaisDerrière ce murSilencieux et durTon corps s’éloignaitTon corps s’effaçaitJe restais désolée derrière ce mur
Dans la brume de mes penséesJe chavireJ’étreint ton souvenirLaisse-moi caresser ta mainEt te voir revenir (bis)
J’ai rêvé ton retourJ’ai rêvé tant de joursContre le mur de ton silenceTon corps s’approchaitTon corps me touchaitJe restais enflamméeContre ce mur

English translation :
I dreamt you were living
I dreamt you were livingI dreamt that you were behindThis hard silent wallYour body in the distance,Disappearing.
In the mist o my thoughtsI capsize,I clutch to your memoryLet me kiss your handAnd see you come back
I dreamt of your returnI dreamt for some many daysAgainst the wall of your silenceYour body came nearerYour body touched mineI remained inflamedAgainst the wall

Verse 1

Well, I’m going down to the St. James Infirmary,

to see my baby there

She was all stretched out,

on a long white table

So sweet, so cold, so bare

Verse 2

Let her go, go !
Ahh, my little Baby, Where ever she can be
You may search this whole world all over

But she’d never find a sweet man like me

Verse 3

Now, when I die, bury me in Stetson shoes
A Stetson coat, and a Stetson hat

And put a twenty dollar gold piece on my watch chain

So the cats know, that I died fat

Ad Lib

St. James Infirmary, where can my baby be ?

It’s just at St. James Infirmary, yeah

Let my baby go, let my baby go
Let my Baby go, go, go

Let my Baby go !

Traditional arranged by :

Manuel Galvin & Jean-Jacques Milteau

THE STEELWORKER

Music by Julien Vega
Lyrics by John Greaves & Julien Vega

Hip Hop perched up on a beam
Way above the crowd
I’m as happy as I seem
Sitting on a cloud
Hip! I’m at the top
Hop! On top of New York

Tough guys throwin’ steel around
Way above the ground
Like they are dancing with the
Joists and the girders
1,2 and 3 and 4
Hoist! Up to the next floor.

Working for my pay
Like any other guy
Just another day
For cowboys in the sky

Down there tryin’ to make a buck
I ran out of luck
Man I hardly got to eat
Just a bum on the street
Up here I’m the guy to meet
I’m mister Rockefeller

Hip Hop sitting on a cloud
Way above the crowd
I’m as happy as a clam
Betcha life I am
Hip! I’m at the top
Hop! On top of New York

Tough guys throwin’ steel around
Way above the ground
Like they are dancing with the
Joists and the girders
1,2 and 3 and 4
Hoist! We’re going up
Up to the top floor.

La vie n'est pas facile, pour une gamine de seize ansqui n'a plus de famille, et encor' moins d'argent,Elle coup' et coud toute la semaine à l'atelier des mouchoirs,mais le dimanche elle est reine de la danse au bal du soir.

Tourne vire, virevolte, la belle d'un pied léger,tourne vire, virevolte, c'est venu le temps d'aimer.

Elle a jolie frimousse, et le coeur innocent,des rêves qui la poussent vers un prince charmant,et c'est en mai qu'il lui arrive, l'invite pour un pas de deux
D'une valse il l'enivre et les voilà amoureux.

Ils se sont mariés, ont brûlé la belle saisonla guerre est déclarée, il doit par-tir au front!A la gare ils se quittent en agitant leur mou-choir,"Je reviendrai bien vit' et je t'écrirai chaque soir"

Sur le chemin des Dames, le voilà soudain foudroyé,elle n'a pas assez de larmes pour son malheur noyer,mais pour la vie jolie grisette tu ne peux t'enfermer,
dimanche à la guinguette tu retourneras danser.

English translation :
Twirl

Life is not easy for a girl of sixteenWho’s got no family and no moneyShe cuts and sews all week long in the handkerchief factoryBut on Sundays she is the queen of the ball
Spin, turn, twirl, the light-footed beautySpin, turn, twirl, the time has come to love
She has a cute little face, and a pure heartDreaming of her prince charmingAnd in May he arrives, invites her to a pas de deuxWith a waltz he steals her heart, and they are lovers
They got married, lived life to the full,
war is declared, he must leave for the frontat the station they say their goodbyes waving the handkerchiefs“I’ll be back soon, and I’ll write every night
On the Chemin des Dames, he is suddenly struckShe has not enough tears to drown her sadness,But don’t lock yourself away pretty girlNext Sunday you will be back dancing at the guinguette.