It was a small garden
That smelled like the Métropolitain
That smelled like the Parisian basin
It was a small garden
With a table and a garden chair
With two trees, an apple tree and a fir
At the back of a courtyard on Chaussée-d'Antin

But one day, near the garden
Passed a man who on the lapel of his jacket
Wore a concrete flower
In the garden, a voice sang

Please, please, Mr. Developer
Please, please, preserve this grace
Please, please, Mr. Developer
Do not cut my flowers

It was a small garden
That smelled like the Métropolitain
That smelled like the Parisian basin
It was a small garden
With a robin in its fir
With a man who was gardening
At the back of a courtyard on Chaussée-d'Antin

But one day, near the garden
Passed a man who on the lapel of his jacket
Wore a concrete flower
In the garden, a voice sang

Please, please, Mr. Developer
Please, please, preserve this grace
Please, please, Mr. Developer
Do not cut my flowers

In place of the pretty little garden
There is the entrance to a tunnel
Where are lined up like concrete blocks
The cars of the urban center

It was a small garden
At the back of a courtyard on Chaussée-d'Antin
It was a small garden
At the back of a courtyard on Chaussée-d'Antin

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