Modern exotica/electro cumbia with attitude in a dub mood. Danceable ...Modern exotica/electro cumbia with attitude in a dub mood. Danceable & steady. Side-chain synths, electronic keyboards, Latin & electronic percussion.
Alternate version in a circus mood. Joyful, lively & exuberant. ...Alternate version in a circus mood. Joyful, lively & exuberant. Ensemble with brass, strings & mallet percussion.
Text ... Upbeat country song in a Louisiana / cajun mood. Like a party in the ...Upbeat country song in a Louisiana / cajun mood. Like a party in the bayou. Male singer, pedal steel, accordion, fiddle.
GOODTIME HONKY TONK VERSE Just a little past the county line Where the kudzu’s growin’ up the cross road sign
Sun’s sinkin’ thru the pine You’ll find the goodtime honky tonk
VERSE Just one happy family Blowin’ off steam at the end of the week Yes sir, no ma’am, thank you, please At the goodtime honky tonk
CHORUS Goodtime Honky Tonk Grab yourself a cold one Lose your troubles An’ have some fun At the goodtime Honky Tonk Goodtime Honky Tonk Grab yourself a partner Try to hang on To an old George Strait song At the goodtime Honky Tonk
VERSE Jukebox sittin’ on the old front porch Punch those numbers and hit the floor We all know what we’re here for
At the goodtime Honky Tonk
VERSE None of that new country breed Just Hank and Lefty and some Brenda Lee Listen to Willie puff some weed At the goodtime Honky Tonk
CHORUS Goodtime Honky Tonk Grab yourself a cold one Lose your troubles An’ have some fun At the goodtime Honky Tonk Goodtime Honky Tonk Grab yourself a partner Try to hang on To an old George Strait song At the goodtime Honky Tonk
INSTRUMENTAL
REPEAT CHORUS Goodtime Honky Tonk Grab yourself a cold one Lose your troubles An’ have some fun At the goodtime Honky Tonk Goodtime Honky Tonk Grab yourself a partner Try to hang on To an old George Strait song At the goodtime Honky Tonk At the goodtime Honky Tonk At the goodtime Honky Tonk Heyeeeee
Underscore. Upbeat country cue in a Louisiana / cajun mood. Like a ...Underscore. Upbeat country cue in a Louisiana / cajun mood. Like a party in the bayou. Pedal steel, accordion, fiddle.
Text ... French song. Pop ballad / neo retro. Exotic, dreamy & mellow. ...French song. Pop ballad / neo retro. Exotic, dreamy & mellow. Electric guitar solo @ 1'23. Female singer, twangy guitar, fx reverb, bass & rhythm.
Si un jour tu m’emmènes
A la plage J’aimerais tant plonger Dans les vagues Je te promets que je resterais Sage Mais tu ne comprends pas Que je rêve de ça
Quand l’été est là Je sens le soleil sur ma peau Tu marches avec moi Mais tu pars un peu trop tôt
Je veux y croire Mais tu me refuses ça Nous sur le sable Etendus et nus Amoureux Toujours
Si un jour tu m’emmènes
A la plage J’aimerais tant plonger Dans les vagues Je te promets que je resterais Sage Mais tu ne comprends pas Que je rêve de ça
Alors je sors seule la nuit Je cherche un ami Et puis quand
Sonne minuit Je suis folle de lui Nous courons dans les dunes Eclairés par la lune
Si un jour tu m’emmènes
A la plage J’aimerais tant plonger Dans les vagues Je te promets que je resterais Sage Mais tu ne comprends pas Que je rêve de ça English translation : THE BEACH If one day you take me to the beach I would like to dive into the waves I promise you that I will be careful But you don’t understand That’s what I’m dreaming of
When summer is here I feel the sun on my skin You walk with me
But you leave a little too early
I want to believe it
But you want let me Us on the sand,
stretched out and naked,
In Love,
Always
If one day you take me to the beach I would like to dive into the waves I promise you that I will be careful But you don’t understand That’s what I’m dreaming of
So I go out alone at night I'm looking for a friend And then when midnight sounds I'm crazy about him We run through the dunes Lit by the moon
If one day you take me to the beach I would like to dive into the waves I promise you that I will be careful But you don’t understand That’s what I’m dreaming of
Text ... French song. Ballade pop / pop song. Dreamy, hovering & funny. ...French song. Ballade pop / pop song. Dreamy, hovering & funny. Sentimental @ 2'00. Female singer, electric guitar 12 stings, folk guitar & rhythm.
Michel, bavard et maladroit Pas si fidèle que ça Il aime faire la java
Michel, il a de drôles d’envies Il conduit sans permis Il aime faire des paris
Michel il ne fait pas semblant Ses défauts émouvants Et si Michel me ment
C’est beau Quand il me dit des choses Me compare à une rose J’aime quand Michel il ose
Michel, dans ses yeux l’Italie Les matinées au lit Les couleurs de la vie
Michel il ne fait pas semblant Ses défauts émouvants Et quand Michel me ment C’est beau Quand il me dit des choses Me compare à une rose La vie est moins morose
Michel nous deux c’est du sérieux et si Un jour on est vieux Michel les couleurs seront là Mon cœur, mon cœur s’emballera
Comme à chaque fois Comme à chaque fois
English translation :
MICHEL (ex western)
Michel, talkative and clumsy Not all that faithful He likes to party
Michel, he has funny desires He drives without a license He likes to make bets
Michel, he doesn’t pretend His touching faults And if Michel is lying to me
It's beautiful When he tells me things Compares me to a rose I like it when Michel dares
Michel, Italy in his eyes
Mornings in bed The colors of life
Michel, he doesn’t pretend His touching faults And if Michel is lying to me It's beautiful When he tells me things Compares me to a rose Life is less morose
Michel, both of us it’s serious stuff and if One day, we are old Michel, the colors will be there My heart, my heart will be full
Text ... Country / folk song with a touch of bluegrass. Confident & lively. ...Country / folk song with a touch of bluegrass. Confident & lively. Female singer, guitar, mandolin, fiddle & electric bass. Banjo @ 1'35.
Gotta keep on movingGotta find a way to get close to youHelp me keep on moving, gottastay on my feet if I wanna get close to youI’m not bad at moving, when I gotta,And I just don’t know what else to do Gotta keep my head up, everyNow and then look up to the skyBeen so low I don’t recall what the Leaves on the trees look likeI’m doing my best,But won’t you help me with the rest Oh while I’m still breathing I’m moving fastIf you want me to stayYou gotta ask If only I could love youI would spend all night getting close to youIf only I could love you I would Be the one you could call yoursOh it sounds so pretty, But if I don’t show you know I’m so unsure Oh while I’m still breathing I’m moving fastIf you want me to stay You gotta ask I won’t say it won’t work if youSay you’ll do the same Hold myself still,StopAnd get myself to stayBut every time I tryYou just slip off to the sideAnd I keep moving Oh while I’m still breathing I’m moving fastIf you want me to stayYou gotta ask x2
Text ... Song sung in French. 20's 30's. Dramatic & sentimental. Female ...Song sung in French. 20's 30's. Dramatic & sentimental. Female singer, accordion & piano.
J’ai rêvé que tu partaisJ’ai rêvé que tu étaisDerrière ce murSilencieux et durTon corps s’éloignaitTon corps s’effaçaitJe restais désolée derrière ce mur Dans la brume de mes penséesJe chavireJ’étreint ton souvenirLaisse-moi caresser ta mainEt te voir revenir (bis) J’ai rêvé ton retourJ’ai rêvé tant de joursContre le mur de ton silenceTon corps s’approchaitTon corps me touchaitJe restais enflamméeContre ce mur
English translation : I dreamt you were living I dreamt you were livingI dreamt that you were behindThis hard silent wallYour body in the distance,Disappearing. In the mist o my thoughtsI capsize,I clutch to your memoryLet me kiss your handAnd see you come back I dreamt of your returnI dreamt for some many daysAgainst the wall of your silenceYour body came nearerYour body touched mineI remained inflamedAgainst the wall
Instrumental version, no voice. France. 20's 30's. Dramatic & ...Instrumental version, no voice. France. 20's 30's. Dramatic & sentimental. Accordions, piano & double-bass.
Text ... Song sung in French. 20's & 50's. Waltz. Disturbing & dramatic. ...Song sung in French. 20's & 50's. Waltz. Disturbing & dramatic. Female singer, accordion, piano & double-bass.
Sur les toits de Paris la nuitLes Apaches* sont réunisEt dans l’éclat de lune qui blanchit les maisonsDes ombres se projettent en longIls préparent un coup vengeurLa lame de couteau sur le cœurEt demain on lira dans les journaux du soir :« Un homme a succombé dans le noir » Ah ! regardez-les passer quand ils glissent sans bruitFilant à travers les rues d’un quartier de Paris Ils n’ont pas l’air de s’en faire et partent à la conquêteDes filles qu’ils font danser le soir au bal musetteEt sur les accords vibrants d’un vieil accordéonMurmurent les mots d’amour qui donnent le frissonMais ils finiront un jour reclus à la Roquette*Et regretterons le temps qui fait perdre la tête... Au bord du Canal St MartinDans la froideur d’un p’tit matinUne étrange silhouette s’arrête un court instantEst-ce un marinier ou un passant ?L’onde calme soudain s’agiteUne forme se précipiteEt dans le rouge sang d’un fugace refletUn corps disparaît à tout jamais Écoutez filles des faubourgsPrenez garde aux trop beaux discoursLes serments prononcés à la lueur d’un lampionSont là pour vous faire perdre raisonSi le cœur de Paris la nuitVous entraîne dans ses foliesDieu sait où les baisers de ces mauvais garçonsUn jour ou l’autre vous conduiront ?
English translation : Apaches On the rooftops of ParisThe Apaches meetAnd as the white light of the moon shines on the houses belowAnd the shadows lengthenThey are preparing their revengeKnife blade on their heartsAnd tomorrow we will read in the evening papers:“A man succumbed in the darkness” Ah ! Watch them slip silently by Criss crossing the streets of the Parisian quartierThey don’t seem too concerned and set out to win the heartsOf the girlsThey dance with in the evening at the bal musette*And to the Moving vibrato of an old accordionThey whisper sweet nothings to make heart flutterBut they will end up one day in the RoquetteAnd will regret these heady moments On the banks of the Saint Martin CanalIn the chill of the early hoursA strange silhouette halts just for a momentIs it a bargeman or a passer-by?Suddenly the calm waters are disturbedA shadow flees byAnd in the red blood of a fleeting reflexionA body disappears forever Listen you faubourg girlsBeware of pretty storiesVows pronounced by the light of a Chinese lanternAre there to make you loose your headsIf the heart of Paris by nightLeads you into a follyLord knows where these bad boy’s kissesWill take you one day or another.
Text ... Song sung in French. 50's. Sentimental & moving. Female singer, piano ...Song sung in French. 50's. Sentimental & moving. Female singer, piano & string orchestra.
Je n’ai que ton amourPour baigner de douceurLa fuite de nos joursOublier nos malheurs.Cette route insensée Epuise notre sangPourquoi vivre accabléLorsque l’on s’aime tant Je n’ai que ton amourPour enflammer ma vieDans ta force infinieJe me love sans détourTu réchauffe mon cœurApaise mon chagrinPourquoi tout ce bonheur Aurait-il une fin Je n’ai que ton amourDans mon sang dans ma chairEt ma gorge se serreAttendant ton retourDes automnes durant.Le bois mort de nos viesCouvrira nos printemps Et nos amours finis
English translation :
I’ve only got your love I’ve only got your loveTo sweetly batheThe passing of our daysTo forget our unhappinessThis road without senseDrains us of blood,Why live despondentWhen we
love each other so much I’ve only got your loveto light up my lifeI unhesitatingly bury myself In your infinite strengthYou recandle my heaertSweeten my sadnessWhy must all this happinessCome to an end I’ve only got your loveIn my flesh and bloodAnd the tears well upAwaiting your returnFor so many autumnsThe dead wood of our livesWill cover our springtimesAnd our lost love
Text ... Song sung in French from Aristide Bruant. End of the 19th century. ...Song sung in French from Aristide Bruant. End of the 19th century. Dramatic & moving. Singer & accordion.
Elle avait sous sa toque de martre,
Sur la butte Montmartre,
Un petit air innocent. On l'appelait rose, elle était belle,
À sentait bon la fleur nouvelle,
Rue Saint-Vincent. Elle avait pas connu son père, Elle avait plus de mère, Et depuis 1900,A’ demeurait chez sa vieille aïeule Où qu'à s'élevait comme ça, toute seule, Rue Saint-Vincent. À travaillait déjà pour vivre Et les soirs de givre, Dans le froid noir et glaçant, Son petit fichu sur les épaules, À rentrait par la rue des Saules, Rue Saint-Vincent.
Elle voyait dans les nuit gelées, La nappe étoilée, Et la lune en croissant Qui brillait, blanche et fatidique Sur la petite croix de la basilique, Rue Saint-Vincent. L'été, par les chauds crépuscules, A rencontré Jules, Qu'était si caressant, Qu'à restait la soirée entière, Avec lui près du vieux cimetière, Rue Saint-Vincent. Et je petit Jules était de la tierce Qui soutient la gerce, Aussi l'adolescent, Voyant qu'elle marchait pantre, D'un coup de surin lui troua le ventre, Rue Saint-Vincent. Quand ils l'ont couché sur la planche, Elle était toute blanche, Même qu'en l'ensevelissant, Les croque-morts disaient que la pauvre gosse Était crevé le soir de sa noce, Rue Saint-Vincent. Elle avait sous sa toque de martre,
Sur la butte Montmartre, Un petit air innocent. On l'appelait rose, elle était belle, À sentait bon la fleur nouvelle, Rue Saint-Vincent.
English translation : RUE SAINT VINCENT She had not known her fatherHer mother was goneAnd since 1900She lived in her old grandma’ s houseWhere she took care of herself She was already working for livingAnd on frosty evenings In the black freezing coldHer little shawl aroun her shouldersShe came home by the rue des SaulesRue Saint-Vincent. In these frozen nightsShe saw the curtain of the starsAnd the crescent moonShining white and fatefulOn the little croce of the basilicaRue Saint-Vincent. By the warm summer twilightShe would meet Jules,Who was so tenderShe would stay all evening longWith him near the old cemeteryRue Saint-Vincent. And the young Jules was a good-for-nothingPimping the girlsWhen this kidSaw she was not playing the gameHe stabbed her in the stomachRue Saint-Vincent. When they laid her outShe was all white.The undertakers burying herSaid that the poor childCroaked on her wedding day
Beneath her marten hatOn the Butte Montmartre,She had an innocent little air.She was called Rose, she was beautifulWith a scent like a young flowerRue Saint-Vincent.
Instrumental version, no voice. France. End of the 19th century. ...Instrumental version, no voice. France. End of the 19th century. Dramatic & moving. Solo accordion.
From "Il Est Née le Divin Enfant". Metal band. Wacky, urgent & ...From "Il Est Née le Divin Enfant". Metal band. Wacky, urgent & relentless. Electric guitare solo @ 2'10. Metal band.
From "Desk the Halls" / "FaLaLaLaLa". Powerful, eccentric & ...From "Desk the Halls" / "FaLaLaLaLa". Powerful, eccentric & implacable. Metal band. Electric guitar solo @ 2'10.