Laila

Laila is a dream lost in Paris
like a sigh in the night,
a jasmine, a star shining in the sea
a palm tree against the hurricane.
A thought of rage and freedom
a feeling against loneliness,
coming from centuries, a woman born free
and honorable cannot be.
Allah, it lah lá, it lah lá, it lah lá...
Her green eyes the revolution
her red lips liberation,
in the sixties she won freedom
with a rifle against the pieds noirs.
In the nineties it all ended again, fear,
the veil and the chador,
get out Laila, don’t look back, disappear,
forget it already.
Allah, it lah lá, it lah lá, it lah lá...
Laila, poor Laila flew Laila,
sweet Laila of love, your heart broke in the sky.
Laila, poor Laila flew Laila,
sweet Laila of love, your heart broke in the sky.
Laila, Laila lost in Paris, the days of glory are already over,
stained in France, stained in Algiers,
some for being black, others for being a woman.
Here the story was worth nothing,
it's a bad time for reason,
Mr. Le Pen, the National Front
you know you’re a bastard!
Allah, it lah lá, it lah, lá, it lah lá...
Laila, poor Laila flew. Laila,
sweet Laila of love, your heart broke in the sky.
Laila, poor Laila flew Laila,
sweet Laila of love, your heart broke in the sky.
Laila, Laila,
Laila, Laila,
Laila...