Jacques Brel
Jacques Brel
Jacques Brel
Jacques Brel
Jacques Brel
Jacques Brel
Jacques Brel
Jacques Brel & Mort Shuman
Jacques Brel
Jacques Brel & Elly Stone
Jacques Brel & Shawn Elliott
Jacques Brel
Jacques Brel & Elly Stone
Jacques Brel &
Mort Shuman
Jacques Brel & Shawn Elliott & Mort Shuman
Jacques Brel & Elly Stone
Jacques Brel
Jacques Brel & Elly Stone
Jacques Brel & & Shawn Elliott & Elly Stone & Mort Shuman
Mort Shuman
Ah, I can see them now
Clutching a handkerchief
And blowing me a kiss
Discreetly asking how
How come he died so young?
Or was he very old?
Is the body still warm?
Is it already cold?
All doors are open wide
They poke around inside
My desk, my drawers, my trunk
There's nothing left to hide
Some love letters are there
And an old photograph
They've laid my poor soul bare
And all they do is laugh
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
Ha, ha, ha!
Ah, I can see them all
So formal and so stiff
Like a sergeant-at-arms
At the policeman's ball
And everybody's pushing
To be the first in line
Their hearts upon their sleeves
Like a ten cent valentine
The old women are there
Too old to give a damn
They even brought the kids
Who don't know who I am
They're thinking 'bout the price
Of my funeral bouquet
What they're thinking isn't nice
Cause now they'll have to pay
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
Ha, ha, ha!
Ah, I see all of you
All of my phony friends
Who can't wait 'til it ends
Who can't wait 'til it's through
Oh, I see all of you
You've been laughing all these years
And now all that you have left
Are a few crocodile tears
Ah, you don't even know
That you're entering your hell
As you leave my cemetery
And you think you're doing well
With that one who's at your side
You're as proud as you can be
Ah, she's going to make you cry
But not the way you cried for me
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
Ha, ha, ha!
Oh, I can see me now
So cold and so alone
As the flowers slowly die
In my field of little bones
Oh, I can see me now
I can see me at the end
Of this voyage that I'm on
Without a love, without a friend
Now all this that I see
Is not what I deserve
They really have a nerve
To say these things to me
No, girls, just bread and water
All your money you must save
Or there'll be nothing left for us
When you're dead and in your grave
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
Ha, ha, ha!
Ha ha!
Funeral Tango (Le tango funèbre) was written by Jacques Brel & Mort Shuman & Eric Blau.
Mort Shuman released Funeral Tango (Le tango funèbre) on Mon Jan 01 1968.