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The fish
There are no fish left
Not even a gray little haddock
There are no fish left
The sardine just put itself in oil
Row, row to the fishing net< br/>There are no fish there
Row, row to the fishing net
The fish is a pale chimera
When the big fisherman talks about
How many fish he caught
Then he splices as he wants
Then the arms are not enough
But there are no fish left
Not even a gray little haddock
There are no fish left
The sardine just laid itself in oil
Row, row to fishing pole
No fish are there
Row, row to fishing pole
The fish is a pale chimera
The pike has become a thermometer
With mercury in its spine
It floats by the shore
So you can measure the temperature at your bath
Row, row to the fishing net
There are no fish there
Row, row to fishing boat
The fish is a pale chimera
There are no fish left
Not even a gray little haddock
There are no fish left
The sardine lays itself just in oil
in oil, in oil, in oil, in oil...