B.B. Jacques
B.B. Jacques-Bleu pétrole (English translation)
[Lyrics to "PETROL BLUE"]

[Intro]
Hey
This month, I have to breathe
I let time pass
What I have left in a que-s'
Let's go

[Verse 1]
I have better maps than your bums-al, I work, I forget the eponymous title
I'm paid to be myself and I wonder, the phases, where I find them
Am I writing or am I plugging the holes?
Babe, I'm worth more than that, do you think being broke, I don't know what it is?
Third album, you don't know what it is
Almost drunk, barely lucid
I have to return the album in October, brothel, it's the end of the year
Let's go to thе bon-char, I'm waiting for the Uber near Saint-Placidе
And fuck his mother, I'm late, I'll finish the text in it
But the driver, he makes a funny face
You speak, I took, here's the delay, I have to go back to Paris right now
I am serious rodave
Leave me gossiping in the back room
Play a tune so I can finish the text
They think of the tis-par brothers, but what do those who remain
Losing people was the price of the dream
There's the ques-J' in the building, it raises the price per meter
Fuck off
It's more of an advance, it's the price of a human life
How long do you want to live from rap?
Come, we slam everything, we rock
You forget the moment, you project yourself into lasting
What I was given, I was charged for it
There's gue-dro in bottles of red
Come, we draw on the walls of the city
It will never be like the day before
[Bridge]
It will never be like the day before
Near the impasse, the hotel d'Argenson
They were beautiful, your gargles
Dawn kept its promise like in Gary's novel
I wish you love and great career
And if it was the last shot
When the stars take the wrong line, there remains a wild night
You make money and this thing takes you away from me

[Verse 2]
When the stars take the wrong line, only one wild night remains
You make money and this thing takes you away from me
I need a separate room, to scratch
Yesterday I was alone, it was more convenient but it won't last
Soon we're translating into six languages, like Reed's lyrics
Light the candles that our guests put out
What if we act irrationally
I'm not going to go around Boulogne
Come on, let's go to the Pacific
But don't touch me when you're talking
Am I changing cities?
It's too late for me to change the film
There are words that go out of fashion
While bugs are struggling
Hard to believe you don't know, we gotta get past this
Leave everything in the past simple, leave everything on the wheat-ta
Call the butler back, go home and remind me to answer the phone
Remind me to answer the phone