A little Breton blood
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A little Breton blood and Italian blood
I was born by chance at the bend of a path
And that’s not how a good Christian is born
A poet maybe or a musician
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If sometimes for no reason my heart beats and panics
It is that towards Napoli some birds fly away
And if some gondolas slide on my music
It’s Venice that doesn’t come to sing my word
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A little Breton blood and Italian blood
I was born by chance, to each his own
The other left one day leaving us on the way
Like a burden too heavy
As we let the dogs
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If my heart remained in my old Brittany
Is that we always believe who reaches out to you
At the end of my travels,
At the end of my campaigns
When I feel lost this is where I come back
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A little Breton blood and Italian blood
I was born by chance at the bend of a path
And that’s not how, no, a good Christian is born
A poet maybe or a musician
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