My friends had told me
"We're counting on you Sunday
Maybe Sylvie will be there
Without her guy
She's as dumb as a post
But you're in with her
You don't need to worry
For you, it's in the bag
You're not dumb yet
And she's not too ugly"
She didn't come, the beauty
I played third wheel

I won't go to your parties anymore
They're sad enough to cry
Like a clown's smile
Like rain in summer

"Anyway, don't worry"
My friends had said
"There will be girls
A lot more than guys
The American quarter-hour
It's going to get touchy-feely"
There were only twelve girls
For eighty hairy guys
We've seen better orgies
But no, I'm not bitter
Only with the little LU cookies
Did it turn into an orgy

I won't go to your parties anymore
They're sad enough to cry
Like a clown's smile
Like rain in summer

When I arrived
On my old moped
There were some listening
To the latest David Bowie
They were freaking out like crazy
Around a crappy stereo
They were smoking P4s and drinking Coke
A poor guy on his guitar was playing "Forbidden Games"
There was even a girl who found it pretty

I won't go to your parties anymore
They're sad enough to cry
Like a clown's smile
Like rain in summer

There were two or three thugs
Giving in to their instincts
Stealing in the dark
Records and wallets
I saw everything, said nothing
They were my pals from Argenteuil
Later in the evening
I made everyone laugh
I have to say I told
Three hundred thousand Belgian jokes
I know some filthy ones
But I save them for the Swiss

I won't go to your parties anymore
They're sad enough to cry
Like a clown's smile
Like rain in summer

When I left
I ran into the cops
Dark blue uniforms
And caps on their heads
All because of a neighbor
Who didn't like Bob Dylan
They gave me a ticket
No light on my bike
They thought it good to add
That they liked the youth
Then I went home alone
Not even drunk

I won't go to your parties anymore
They're sad enough to cry
Like a clown's smile
Like rain in summer

(I won't go to your parties anymore, it's sad
Over, over the party
Did you see? There are only fat ones with pimples
Oh, it's not true, it's not true
I have my girlfriend, well I can bring my girlfriend
My girlfriend Chantal, you're in with her
Let it go)

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