Ordinary people of Paris
Robin is proud to be born here
Popular neighborhood bistros and bougnats
And covered markets, streets of king children
Robin owes his strange nickname
To his pretty voice and his scarf
Red his scarf around his neck
Red his memory forever standing

Robin sings the Time of Cherries
In the lively streets when a day arrives
The time of pits and bulldozers
And real bastards in light suits
Some under-minister with a briefcase
And sinister face, the Versailles soul
Decrees too old all this neighborhood
Will set it on fire if the old man doesn't leave

Shaved the house, destroyed the workshop
Concrete cages have replaced them
Goodbye, street lamps, light bulbs on the ceiling
Hello the light of sad neons
Driven out the proles and driven out life
Parkings and offices have eaten Paris
The little people are serious people
Will kindly populate the suburbs

Sing, Robin, the Time of Cherries
Savigny-sur-Orge will seem less gray
Also sing Paname that the assassins
Have delivered to the flames without burning their hands
Sing the memory that Doisneau preserves
Of Paris, the evening before it dies
Sing the bastard Paris-the-submissive
That Doisneau looks at and who is dying
And who is dying

CONSULTER LES PAROLES ORIGINALES