C'est un rien mais qui fait plaisir

Man is good, man is charitable
A little thing moves him, a little thing takes him
No need for amazing things
To exalt his feelings
He is not, whatever they say,
So jaded, damn it
He has exquisite emotions
It only takes a little, a little thing
For his heart to leap
A little thing but it's nice

If your heir who messes up
Fails his exams once again
Admit that it upsets you
It's natural and it's human
But if you later learn
That his cousin, your nephew,
Although a skilled slacker
Just failed his exams in no time
Although far from our desire
It's a little thing but it's nice

At the station a big lady sweating
Runs to catch the train
Discreetly everyone encourages her
"Go on, little mother! Don't hit the brakes!"
When she reaches the platform
Out of breath, eyes dying,
Just at that moment the train starts
We feel a sense of relief
Because, without her, seeing the train leave
It's a little thing but it's nice

And you, Madam, when at the table
Your rival in a low-cut dress
Shows her adorable chest
To the excited Sir
If the servant carrying the soup
In a slightly clumsy gesture
Pours the soup into her cleavage
You let out a little cry of joy
Admit it without blushing
It's a little thing but it's nice

Your friend Victor is getting married
To a really great woman
He is congratulated, he is envied
He's handsome, she's charming
Six months later, six months of dream
Six months of great happiness lived
A rumor circulates, a rumor rises
Shh... Hush. Victor is... - No? - Yes, yes...
The poor friend, what he must be suffering!
It's a little thing but it's nice

This famous tragedienne
Appears on the grand staircase
And to funeral music
Descends slowly with a proud air
At the most pathetic moment
In front of the astonished audience
Tripping over her tunic
She lands in a nosedive
The whole room bursts into laughter
It's a little thing but it's nice

This almost centenarian old man
Saw his friend Tartempion
Who was only in his nineties
Every day outdoing him
He would say, "My old Emile,
I will go to your funeral"
It's him who died of excess bile
The old man whispers "It was time.
All these young ones, I saw them go
It's a little thing but it's nice

The other morning in a bistro
I heard you singing yourself
Because, on a radio record,
I was singing a song I love
A guy having an aperitif
Tells me, with a look full of hatred
"Listen to that idiot bellowing!
What a pain with his tunes!"
The whole room saw me turn pale (smile)
It's a little thing but it's nice