Choix 1

Title from one of the badest song from the great singer Jacques Brel. (I don't share at all !!! ) www.youtube.com/watch?v=uMwumoZ8yMw Girls It's beautiful like a game It's beautiful like a fire It is far too little Girls It's beautiful like a fruit It's beautiful like the night That's a lot of trouble Girls It's beautiful like a fox It is beautiful like a delay It's much too late Girls It's beautiful as it can It is as beautiful as the farewell And it's much better But dogs It's beautiful like dogs And it stays there See us cry Dogs It tells us nothing That may be why Believed love Girls It hangs in your face It takes you to tea It takes you dices Girls It hangs you in the neck It hangs to the nail It depends on you Girls It hangs you to the heart It hangs at flower It depends from the hours Girls It depends on all It depends mainly It depends on the sub But dogs It depends on nothing And it stays there See us cry Dogs It tells us nothing That may be why Believed love Girls It plays to the hoop It plays the brain It is played tango Girls It plays tinder It cheek against cheek It is playing with you Girls It plays to play It plays to love It plays to win Girls They play little women They play great ladies It is played in dramas But dogs It does not play Because it does not know How should cheat Dogs It plays nothing That may be why Believed love Girls It makes dreaming It suggests It gives you leave Girls It is however gives It gives time It's give and Girls It gives love At each turn It overlooks the courtyard Girls It gives you his body It gives so much It gives remorse But dogs It gives you nothing Because it does not know Pretending to give Dogs It gives you nothing That may be why We must love And yet it is for girls At least morning At least sorrow We denies the dogs

www.youtube.com/watch?v=ERYY8GJ-i0I Quem mostro'b Ess caminho longe? Quem mostro'b Ess caminho longe? Ess caminho Pa São Tomé Sodade sodade sodade Dess nha terra d’São Nicolau Si bo t'screve'm M’ta screve'b Si bo t'squece'm M’ta squece'b Até dia Ke bo volta Sodade sodade sodade Dess nha terra d’São Nicolau

www.youtube.com/watch?v=h0zffNfdkSc Dans les poulaillers d'acajou, Les belles basses-cours a bijoux, On entend la conversation De la volaille qui fait l'opinion. Ils disent: "On peut pas être gentils tout le temps. On peut pas aimer tous les gens. Y a une sélection. C'est normal. On lit pas tous le même journal, Mais comprenez-moi : c'est une migraine, Tous ces campeurs sous mes persiennes. Mais comprenez-moi : c'est dur à voir. Quels sont ces gens sous mon plongeoir?" "On peut pas aimer tout Paris. N'est-ce pas y a des endroits la nuit Où les peaux qui vous font la peau Sont plus bronzées que nos p'tits poulbots ? Mais comprenez-moi : la djellaba, C'est pas ce qui faut sous nos climats. Mais comprenez-moi : à Rochechouart, Y a des taxis qui ont peur du noir." " Que font ces jeunes, assis par terre, Habillés comme des traînes-misère. On dirait qu'ils n'aiment pas le travail. Ca nous prépare une belle pagaille. Mais comprenez-moi : c'est inquiétant. Nous vivons des temps décadents. Mais comprenez-moi : le respect se perd Dans les usines de mon grand-père. " Mais comprenez-moi c'est pas ce qui faut sous nos climats. Mais comprenez-moi : à Rochechouart, Y a des taxis qui ont peur du noir." C''est une migraine, Tous ces campeurs sous mes persiennes Ne croyez pas que je sois borné Le genre rétrograde avancé Mais je compte parmi les gens que j'aime bien Un jeune avocat africain N'est-ce pas cher ami cot cot cot......... Mais comprenez moi !

www.youtube.com/watch?v=GsB_cGdgPTo

www.youtube.com/watch?v=jBuwC4VJi50

www.youtube.com/watch?v=MkGOrIBCcg4