단어 ... Song. Sung in Italian. Joyful & lively. Acoustic guitar, sax, ...Song. Sung in Italian. Joyful & lively. Acoustic guitar, sax, mandolins, xylophone & rhythm.
Italiano: A Londra sono stato, Mamma mia, Mamma mia, A Londra sono stato a mangiare un po’ di gnocchi. Il cuoco mi ha servito, Mamma mia, Mamma mia, dei gnocchi cosi cotti, Che sembrano cemento! A Parigi sono stato, Mamma mia, Mamma mia, A Parigi sono stato a mangiare maccheroni. Il cuoco mi ha servito, Mamma mia, Mamma mia, Tre scarsi maccheroni, che del gusto solo l’ombra! Ah, Mamma! Ah Mamma !Ah Mamma mia, la tua pasta, Al po-po-po-po-po-po-po-mo-do-ro, Nessuno la fà, con la tua salsa Con pep-pe-pe-pe-pe-pe-pe-pe-ron-ni. Dei ravioli, dei tortellini, E l'o-l'o-l'o-l'o-l'o-l'o-glio d'o-li-va, Da mamma mamma mia, io son' in paradiso, Da mam-ma mam-ma mi-a, io son in pa-pa-ra-diso. A Pechino loro fanno, Mamma mia, Mamma mia, A Pechino loro fanno Stranissimi spaghetti. Mangiar con le bacchette, Mamma mia, Mamma mia, Ma mangiar con le bacchette, c'è da diventar matto! A Miami ho ordinato, Mamma mia, Mamma mia, A Miami ho ordinato Pesto e parmigiano. E che mi hanno portato? Mamma mia, Mamma mia, E che mi hanno portato? Ketchup e coca cola!Ah, Mamma! Ah Mamma mia, la tua pasta, Al po-po-po-po-po-po-po-mo-do-ro, Nessuno la fà, con la tua salsa Con pep-pe-pe-pe-pe-pe-pe-pe-ron-ni. Dei ravioli, dei tortellini, E l'o-l'o-l'o-l'o-l'o-l'o-glio d'o-li-va, Da mamma mamma mia, io son' in paradiso, Da mam-ma mam-ma mi-a, io son in pa-pa-ra-diso.
Français: Je suis allé à Londres, Mamma mia, Mamma mia,Je suis allé à Londres manger des gnocchis.Le chef m’a servi, Mamma mia, Mamma mia,Des gnocchis tellement cuits,Qu’on aurait dit du ciment. Je suis allé à Paris, Mamma mia, Mamma mia,Je suis allé à Paris manger des maccheronis.Le chef m’a servit, Mamma mia, Mamma mia,Trois pauvres maccheronis, qui n’avait que l’ombre de leur goût ! Ah Mamma mia, tes pâtesAux tomates,Personne ne sait la faireAvec ta sauce aux piments.Des raviolis, des tortellinis,Et l’huile d’olive,De maman, Mamma mia, je suis au paradis A Pekin il font, Mamma mia, Mamma mia,A Pekin il fontD’étranges spaghettis.Manger avec les baguettes, Mamma mia, Mamma mia,Mais manger avec les baguettes, c’est à devenir fou
A Miami j’ai commandé, Mamma mia, Mamma mia,A Miami j’ai commandé,Du pesto et du parmesan.Et qu’est-ce qu’ils m’ont apporté ?Du ketchup et du coca cola !!
English: I went to London, Mamma mia, Mamma mia,I went to London and ate gnocchi.The chef served me, Mamma mia, Mamma mia,Gnocchi so overcookedYou’d have thought it was cement. I went to Paris Mamma mia, Mamma mia,I went to Paris and ate maccheroni, The chef served me, Mamma mia, Mamma mia,Three poor maccheroni, a pale shadow. Ah !Mamma mia,
your pastaWith tomatoes,No one, can make it your spicy sauceMamma’s ravioli, tortellini,And olive oilMamma mia I am in heaven In Peking they make Mamma mia, Mamma mia,In Peking they make strange spaghettiTo eat with chopsticks,
Mamma mia, Mamma mia,But to eat with chopsticks is to go crazy. In Miami I ordered Mamma mia, Mamma mia,In Miami I orderedPesto and parmesan.And what did they bring me?Ketchup and a Coca cola!!
단어 ... Song sung in French. 20's & 50's. Waltz. Disturbing & dramatic. ...Song sung in French. 20's & 50's. Waltz. Disturbing & dramatic. Female singer, accordion, piano & double-bass.
Sur les toits de Paris la nuitLes Apaches* sont réunisEt dans l’éclat de lune qui blanchit les maisonsDes ombres se projettent en longIls préparent un coup vengeurLa lame de couteau sur le cœurEt demain on lira dans les journaux du soir :« Un homme a succombé dans le noir » Ah ! regardez-les passer quand ils glissent sans bruitFilant à travers les rues d’un quartier de Paris Ils n’ont pas l’air de s’en faire et partent à la conquêteDes filles qu’ils font danser le soir au bal musetteEt sur les accords vibrants d’un vieil accordéonMurmurent les mots d’amour qui donnent le frissonMais ils finiront un jour reclus à la Roquette*Et regretterons le temps qui fait perdre la tête... Au bord du Canal St MartinDans la froideur d’un p’tit matinUne étrange silhouette s’arrête un court instantEst-ce un marinier ou un passant ?L’onde calme soudain s’agiteUne forme se précipiteEt dans le rouge sang d’un fugace refletUn corps disparaît à tout jamais Écoutez filles des faubourgsPrenez garde aux trop beaux discoursLes serments prononcés à la lueur d’un lampionSont là pour vous faire perdre raisonSi le cœur de Paris la nuitVous entraîne dans ses foliesDieu sait où les baisers de ces mauvais garçonsUn jour ou l’autre vous conduiront ?
English translation : Apaches On the rooftops of ParisThe Apaches meetAnd as the white light of the moon shines on the houses belowAnd the shadows lengthenThey are preparing their revengeKnife blade on their heartsAnd tomorrow we will read in the evening papers:“A man succumbed in the darkness” Ah ! Watch them slip silently by Criss crossing the streets of the Parisian quartierThey don’t seem too concerned and set out to win the heartsOf the girlsThey dance with in the evening at the bal musette*And to the Moving vibrato of an old accordionThey whisper sweet nothings to make heart flutterBut they will end up one day in the RoquetteAnd will regret these heady moments On the banks of the Saint Martin CanalIn the chill of the early hoursA strange silhouette halts just for a momentIs it a bargeman or a passer-by?Suddenly the calm waters are disturbedA shadow flees byAnd in the red blood of a fleeting reflexionA body disappears forever Listen you faubourg girlsBeware of pretty storiesVows pronounced by the light of a Chinese lanternAre there to make you loose your headsIf the heart of Paris by nightLeads you into a follyLord knows where these bad boy’s kissesWill take you one day or another.
Narrative intro with woodwind & strings. Old-fashioned comedy with a ...Narrative intro with woodwind & strings. Old-fashioned comedy with a tender touch @ 0'31 with pizzicato, mallet percussion & clarinet.
