Do you know this great nation
that drinks from impure vines ?
This brave Raymond on his bike
was called the eternal runner-up .
Idol of retired grocers
who sent poems to the Komandantur
and spoked of the gentle
banks of the Seine
to the starry -eyed drudge,
all expenses -paid travel ,
road to heaven ...
\'\' Marshal here we are !
You who give us one shower a month ! \"
I seek inspiration
in the mists of the north ,
in Italian coffee ,
and even in the flemish flatlands,
which makes laugh
the chicken run diversity !
A belgian beer is ends
in sudden death
from boredom ...
Or sometime a Swiss
prisoner of the mountains ,
dream of some Alpine ocean...
Germans are tired to be the best...
And even the English
don\'t drink tea anymore ...
Here is something
who comfort the people of cheeses,
smooth as Dali\'s clock ...
\'\'And notre dame ? \'\'
You might ask ?
- \'\' alas ! Joane of Arc
will not return mon général !
And the emperor in his wheelchair
fall asleep in front of the screen ! \'\'
At the next bonfire
it\'ll make a nice space
for gaypride !
It\'s friday ,super Dupond
goes to the mosque ...
Glory to our beloved
president Abdoulaye !
The great nation bids farewell
to the world that smiles upon it
like an old habit ...