Jaurès

They were worn out by fifteen
They ended up as beginners
The twelve months were called December
What kind of life did our grandparents have?
Between absinthe and high masses
They were old before they were even
Fifteen hours a day, their bodies on a leash
Left their faces with a pallor of ashes
Yes, our Mister, yes, our good Master
Why did they kill Jaurès?
Why did they kill Jaurès?

You can't say they were slaves
But to say they lived is a stretch
When you leave feeling so defeated
It's hard to break out of the enclave
And yet hope was blooming
In dreams that soared to the skies
Of the few who refused
To crawl into old age
Yes, our good Master, yes, our Mister
Why did they kill Jaurès?
Why did they kill Jaurès?

If by some misfortune they survived
It was to go off to war
It was to end up in battle
Under the orders of some swordsman
Who demanded with barely a whisper
That they go open the field of horror
Their twenty years that never got to be
And they died in sheer terror
All miserable, yes, our good Master
Covered in brambles, yes, our Mister
Ask yourself, beautiful youth
The time of the shadow of a memory
The time of a breath of a sigh
Why did they kill Jaurès?
Why did they kill Jaurès?