Les Murs de Poussiere - Francis Cabrel

Francis Cabrel was born on November 23, 1953, Agen-France; he is a famous French rock singer and composer. He was inspired by Bob Dilyan’s music when he was a teenager so he started to write his own song and played the guitar. Since 1974, he took part of several music contests and he won one that was organized by Sud Radio. In 1989, Cabrel recorded his first album “Sarbacane” and he soon won popularity among rock lovers in France. His cong Les Murs De Poussiere is his most famous song and the following table has its lyric both French and English in order to practice one’s French pronunciation.

Rock Music in French

Les Murs de Poussiere

Il rêvait d'une ville étrangère
Une ville de filles et de jeux
Il voulait vivre d'autres manières
Dans un autre milieu
Il rêvait sur son chemin de pierres
"Je partirai demain, si je veux
J'ai la force qu'il faut pour le faire
Et j'irai trouver mieux"

Il voulait trouver mieux
Que son lopin de terre
Que son vieil arbre tordu au milieu
Trouver mieux que la douce lumière du soir
Près du feu
Qui réchauffait son père
Et la troupe entière de ses aïeux
Le soleil sur les murs de poussière
Il voulait trouver mieux...

Il a fait tout le tour de la terre
Il a même demandé à Dieu
Il a fait tout l'amour de la terre
Il n'a pas trouvé mieux

Il a croisé les rois de naguère
Tout drapés de diamants et de feu
Mais dans les châteaux des rois de naguère
Il n'a pas trouvé mieux...

Il n'a pas trouvé mieux
Que son lopin de terre
Que son vieil arbre tordu au milieu
Trouver mieux que la douce lumière du soir
Près du feu
Qui réchauffait son père
Et la troupe entière de ses aïeux
Le soleil sur les murs de poussière
Il n'a pas trouvé mieux...

Il a dit "Je retourne en arrière
Je n'ai pas trouvé ce que je veux"
Il a dit "Je retourne en arrière"
Il s'est brûlé les yeux

Il s'est brûlé les yeux
Sur son lopin de terre
Sur son vieil arbre tordu au milieu
Aux reflets de la douce lumière du soir
Près du feu
Qui réchauffait son père
Et la troupe entière de ses aïeux
Au soleil sur les murs de poussière
Il s'est brûlé les yeux (x3)

Francis Cabrel

The Walls of Dust

He dreamed of a foreign city
A city of girls and games
He wanted to live other ways
In another culture
He dreamed on his stone road
"I will leave tomorrow, if I want
I have the strength it takes to do it
And I will go find better"

He wanted to find better
Than his own patch of land
Than his old lop-sided tree in the middle
Find better than the soft evening light
Near the fire
Warming his father
And his forefathers entire troop
The sun on the walls of dust
He wanted to find better...

He went around the world
He even asked God
He made all the love in the wield
He didn't find better

He came across the kings of old
All covered in diamonds and fire
But in castles of the kings of old
He didn't find better...

He didn't find better
Than his own patch of land
Than his old lop-sided tree in the middle
Find better than the soft evening light
Near the fire
Warming his father
And his forefathers entire troop
The sun on the walls of dust
He didn't to find better...

He said "I'm going back
I didn't find what I want"
He said "I'm going back"
He burned his eyes

He burned his eyes
On his own patch of land
On his old lop-sided tree in the middle
In the soft evening light's gleam
Near the fire
Warming his father
And his forefathers entire troop
In the sun on the walls of dust
He burned his eyes (x3)

Francis Cabrel



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