When I'm old, I'll be unbearable
Except for my bed and my meager past
My dog u200bu200bwill be dead, my beard will be pathetic
All my cods will have let me down
I will live in any Belgium
Which will insult me u200bu200bjust as much as now
When I sing to him, long live the Republic
br/>Long live the Belgians, shit, for the flamingants
La, la, la
La, la, la
I will be fled like an old hospital
By all the bellies of high society
So I will drink alone, my cicada pension
You have to be good when you have been
I will only be received by the neighborhood cats
At their feast so that there are not thirteen of them
But I will sing there on a simple chair
br/>I will sing there after the dead rat
Gentlemen, in the bed of the Marquise
It was me, the eighty hunters
La, la, la
When the stupid and fatal hour comes
When it seems that someone is calling us
I will insult the priestly cop
Leaning towards me like a stooge from heaven
And I will die, surrounded by jokers
Telling me that he was cool, Voltaire
And if there are some who have a feather in their hat
There are some who have a feather in their back
La, la, la
La, la, la
When I get old, I will be unbearable
Except for my bed and my meager past
My dog u200bu200bwill be dead, my beard will be pathetic
All my cods will have let me down

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