Thursday, January 26, 2012

French to english translator please :)?

I really like this new song, but i can only make out bits of the lyric:



Tourne-disque qui cr茅pite au loin

Sergent Pepper sur un dimanche matin

On s'rappelle jamais trop bien

Les souvenirs auxquels on tient



Comment c'茅tait d茅j脿

Comment c'茅tait

Quand 莽a f'sait rien quand on tombait

Un peu de rouge sur les g'noux

Un peu de rouge qui soignait tout

Isn't she lovely comme si c'茅tait moi

Les cheveux longs, les ch'mises en soie

La moto, les tiges qu'il fumait

Les dessins qui s'envolaient

Et toi t茅tais m锚me pas n茅e

J'茅tais heureuse moi tu sais

Trois petits tours et puis trente ans

Un, deux, trois soleil on est grand

Sauf que d'锚tre grand moi j'ai pas l'cran

La machine 脿 coudre qui ronronnait

Les bouts de tissu 脿 nos pieds

Tout avait un sens et c'茅tait d'j脿 莽a

Comment c'茅tait d茅j脿

Et le monde comme un tourniquet

Ne s'arr锚tait jamais d'tourner

Et la vie sentait bon l'embrun

Les cypr猫s du parc Chambrun

Et toi t'茅tais m锚me pas l脿

J'茅tais heureuse moi d茅j脿

Trois petits tours et puis trente ans

Un, deux, trois soleil on est grand

Sauf que d'锚tre grand moi j'ai pas le cran

Et toi t'茅tais m锚me pas n茅e

J'茅tais heureuse moi tu sais

Trois petits tours et puis trente ans

Un deux trois soleil on est grand

Sauf que d'锚tre grand moi j'ai pas le cran

Mais o霉 s'en vont finir leurs jours

Les beaux r锚ves, les grands amours

O霉 s'enfuient donc ces bouts de temps

Ca s'ra comment dis

莽a s'ra comment?French to english translator please :)?
Someone used a digital translator.. a lot of work, so nice intentions, but a lot of mistakes too..

And remember, lyrics often don't make much sense..



A turntable crackling in the distance

Sergeant Pepper on a Sunday morning

One never remembers too well

The memories that are important



How it was already

How was it

When it wasn't important when one fell

A little red on the knees

A little red nursed well..

Isn't she lovely - as if it were me

Long hair, the silk shirts

The bike, he smoked stems

The patterns, which flew away

And you were not even born

I (for one) was happy, you know

Three little turns and then thirty years

One, two, three, sun, we are doing great

Except that to be grown up .. I haven't got the guts

The sewing machine that purred

The boots of fabric on our feet

Everything had a meaning and it was already what

it was already

And the world as a tourniquet

Never stopped to turn

And life felt good the spray

The Cypress in the Chambrun park

And you were not even there

I was happy I already

Three little turns and then thirty years

One, two, three, sun, we are doing great

Except that to be grownup I haven't the guts

And you were not even born



But where they will end their days

The dreams, the great loves

Where do they run off to, these bits of time

How will it be said / told?

How will it be?French to english translator please :)?
Turntables crackling in the distance

Sergeant Pepper on a Sunday morning

It is never too much s'rappelle

The memories that we take



How it was already

How was

When it f'sait nothing when it fell

A little red on g'noux

A little red nursed all

Is not she lovely as if it were me

Long hair, the silk ch'mises

The bike, he smoked stems

The drawings, which flew

And you sucked not even born

I was happy you know me

Three little turns and then thirty years

One, two, three sun there is great

Except that to be great I have not the guts

The sewing machine purred

The pieces of fabric at our feet

Everything had a meaning and it was to j脿

How it was already

And the world as a tourniquet

Never stopped to turn

And life felt good the spray

The Cypress Park Chambrun

And now you were not even there

I was glad I already

Three little turns and then thirty years

One, two, three sun there is great

Except that to be great I have not the guts

And now you were not even born

I was happy you know me

Three little turns and then thirty years

One two three one sun is high

Except that to be great I have not the guts

But where it will end their days

The dreams, the great loves

Where to run away so these bits of time

It'll be told how

it'll be how?
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