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The lyrics of America Weeps Frisky Cowboys

The lyrics of the song L'Amérique pleure by the group Les Cowboys Fringants

 

One more day to wake up
At the same time as the sun
The face still a little poached
Of my four hours of sleep (yeah!)
I take a shot of cigarettes
Job done for vitamins
And a good mop water coffee
History of looking better
I take the Florida Turnpike
Tomorrow night ch't'à Montmagny
No trucker, it's not really the Klondike
But you see the country (yeah!)
Especially it makes you realize
That behind the beautiful landscapes
There are so many inequalities
And suffering on the faces
The question I ask myself all the time:
But how do all these people do
To still believe in life
In this hypocrisy?
It's so sad that sometimes when I come home
Worse that I park my old truck
I see all America crying
In my rearview mirror ...
I hang around in my trailer
All the excesses of my time
Frozen glut
Shooted, overpacked (yeah!)
While wishful thinking passes in the butter
That our carelessness is sated
It's in the bottom of the containers
What can the surpluses rot
The question I ask myself all the time:
But what will our children do
When there is nothing left
What ruins and hunger?
It's so sad that sometimes when I come home
Worse that I park my old truck
I see all America crying
In my rearview mirror ...
On Interstate 95
All dreams go up in smoke
A tank on fire in a ramp
A fatal accident (yeah!)
And in the middle of this cork
No respect for death
Take turns playing the horn
In such a rush to go nowhere
The question I ask myself all the time:
But where are all these people going?
There are so many tanks everywhere
The world is driven mad
It's so sad that sometimes when I come home
Worse that I park my old truck
I see all America crying
In my rearview mirror ...
An aut 'truck stop motorway
Grabbed to eat ch'noute
It's true that in the soup of the day
There could have been so much love (yeah!)
We killed human warmth
With chain service
On TV an aut 'sick
Just started a shootout
The question I ask myself all the time:
But how do these poor people do
To cross the whole course
Of a life without love?
It's so sad that sometimes when I come home
Worse that I park my old truck
I see all America crying
In my rearview mirror ...
Yeah, don't stop me too
When I roll alone in the night
I sometimes ask myself what I'm crazy here
Caught in the backcountry (yeah!)
I think about all that I missed
With Mimi and the two girls
And I have this fucked up feeling
To be a stranger in my family
The question I ask myself all the time
Why work so much
Keep away from those I love
All this to play the game
It's so sad that sometimes
When I'm away from home
Sitting in my old truck
I have all 'America crying
That goes to the bottom of my heart

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