Le Déserteur

Mr. President
I am writing you a letter
That you may read
If you have the time
I have just received
My military papers
To go to war
Before Wednesday night
Mr. President
I do not want to do it
I am not on this earth
To kill poor people
It's not to upset you
I must tell you
My decision is made
I am going to desert

Since I was born
I saw my father die
I saw my brothers leave
And cried for my children
My mother suffered so much
She is in her grave
And mocks the bombs
And mocks the worms
When I was a prisoner
They stole my wife
They stole my soul
And all my dear past
Tomorrow morning
I will close my door
To the dead years
I will go on the roads

I will beg for my life
On the roads of France
From Brittany to Provence
And I will say to people
Refuse to obey
Refuse to do it
Do not go to war
Refuse to leave
If blood must be shed
Go shed yours
You are a good apostle
Mr. President
If you pursue me
Warn your gendarmes
That I will not have weapons
And they can shoot