The music rolled out exotic tempos
The lady on the first floor picked up the rhythm
And started to dance la la la la
To the tunes of the tropics
And the whole upscale building danced the samba
And the whole upscale building danced the samba

The neighboring building, which has a critical sense
Being standardized for the average executive
Soon contaminated by the eccentric rhythm
Turned off the TV and danced the samba

The working-class people living in the emergency housing
Whose lack of soundproofing quickly sets the mood
Were used to following the beats
And the whole housing complex danced the samba
A dead, powerless, and static music
Seeped through the very aristocratic ceiling
But the authentic joy rose from the lower depths
The director took his measures

Then the CRS of rhythmic repression
Who don't sway any other way than with a club
Their ears blocked by enormous portholes
Found a culprit and did their job

They killed the guitarist, broke his fingers
Banned his music, monitored for a few months
But deep in the memories on the jackhammers
The factory comrades engraved the song

CONSULTER LES PAROLES ORIGINALES