歌词
[Verse 1]
In the city of lights where the moon is toujours high,
There's a peculiar sight that might catch your eye.
Baguettes and berets, and snails on a tray,
Everyone's yawning, "C'est la vie," they say.
[Chorus]
Oh, the French are toujours fatigués,
From Paris to Nice, and all the way to Fréjus,
Even the Seine seems to flow in a lazy sway,
"Je suis fatigué," is the national phrase.
[Verse 2]
They sip on their coffee at a quarter past trois,
Underneath the Eiffel, with a tired "hoi polloi."
Even the Mona Lisa seems to have had a jour,
With a sleepy smile, she's fatiguée for sure.
[Chorus]
Oh, the French are toujours fatigués,
From the vineyards of Bordeaux to the shores of Béziers,
Even the wine seems to whisper "au revoir" to the day,
"Je suis fatigué," they all say.
[Bridge]
Is it the cheese, the wine, or just the joie de vivre?
That makes every French soul so tired, so weary?
Or perhaps it's the weight of all that savoir-faire,
That leaves them sighing "oh, laissez-faire."
[Chorus]
Oh, the French are toujours fatigués,
From the Alps' snowy peaks to the sun-kissed Côte d'Azur,
Even the croissants seem to droop in a sleepy way,
"Je suis fatigué," they all say.
[Piano solo]
[Verse 3]
But in their fatigue, there's a certain charm, you see,
A lullaby in the hum of the sleep-drenched city,
So here's to the French, in their tired, dreamy array,
Singing "Je suis fatigué," at the end of the day.
[Chorus]
Oh, the French are toujours fatigués,
From Paris to Niece, and all the way to Fréjus,
Even the Seine seems to flow in a lazy sway,
"Je suis fatigué," is the national phrase.
[Outro]
