We were a couple of accomplices, Alfredo and Germain, That his friends, by malice, had nicknamed the cousin. There was an Englishman from Boulogne, An adept of the tunnel, My brother, who was from Gascogne, and me, an intellectual. We had made a little break in Venice, We went to Pisa and we discussed money. But on the tunnel, what misery, Alfredo got a little stuck. When we are hard in business, we always end up falling. It's dangerous, it's dangerous, it's dangerous, yes. It's dangerous, it's dangerous, it's dangerous, yes. In a cuckoo of a banger, we shared the bill. But Germain, in anger, insinuated that we stole it. He told us in his tongue, Something like, do not push. Even when you miss, it gives you ideas. It's dangerous, it's dangerous, it's dangerous, yes. It's dangerous, it's dangerous, it's dangerous, yes. The Englishman and my poor brother fell, what a misfortune. God at the turn of a hamster on a car of CRS. In my city of Marseille, I'm looking for a derision. Sleeping on my pillow, a fall to my song. It's dangerous, it's dangerous, it's dangerous, yes. It's dangerous, it's dangerous, it's dangerous, yes. It's dangerous, it's dangerous, it's dangerous, yes. It's dangerous, it's dangerous, it's dangerous, yes.