Stromae - Sante (with Lyrics & Subtitles)
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Stromae - Sante (en) Lyrics
To those who don’t have any
Rosa, Rosa,
When we make a mess,
you’ll clean it up.
And you, Albert,
When we down our drinks,
you’ll pick them up.
Céline the celibate,
Nobody checks you out
at the coat check.
Stop it, Arlette,
During the party, your place
is next to the toilets.
Let’s celebrate those
who can’t celebrate.
For once, I want to raise my glass
to those who don’t have it,
Those who don’t have it.
Good manners, you say? So what?
Why should I pretend I care?
In any case, she’s being
paid to do it.
You think you’re my mom?
I’ll be back in an hour, it better
be clean, so clean you
could eat off the floor.
I mean, really? I’ve been
waiting for three hours.
He’s gone next door to
make them or what?
Good thing it’s only two
drinks I’m asking for.
Come on, call your supervisor for me.
And hurry up, your career
might end right now.
Yeah, let’s celebrate those
who can’t celebrate.
One more time,
I want to raise my glass to
those who don’t have it.
Rubbin’, rubbin’
Better not rub me the wrong way
Rubbin’, rubbin’,
If you don’t know me.
Scrubbin’ and Scrubbin’,
Scrub all your plans
If you don’t respect me
Airplane pilots and nurses,
Truck drivers and flight attendants,
Bakers and fishers,
Let’s have a toast for the conquerors
of the worst work hours,
For the new parents lulled
to sleep by cries,
For the insomniacs by trade,
And for all those reeling
from heartbreaks,
Who don’t have the heart
to celebrate. (encore)
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