The Flemings, a comic song!

Gentlemen Flemings, I have two words to make you laugh
It's been too long, you've been making me fry
Blowing in your ass, to become a bus
Here you are acrobats, but really nothing more
Nazis during the wars and Catholics between them
You constantly oscillate from the rifle to the missal
Your looks are distant, your humor is bloodless
Although there are streets in Ghent
That piss in both languages
You see when I think of you, I like that nothing is lost
Gentlemen Flemings, I shit on you

You dirty Flanders but Flanders judges you
See the North Sea, it has fled from Bruges
Stop inflating my old balls
With your Flemish art, Italo-Spanish
You are so, so much too heavy
That when on stormy nights, cultured Chinese
Ask me where I'm from, I answer tired
And with tears in my teeth "ik ben van Luxembourg"
And if to young women one dares a Flemish song
They fly away dreaming of pink and white birds

And I forbid you to hope that ever
In London under the rain, you can be believed to be English
And I forbid you, in New York or Milan
To belch my lords, otherwise than in Flemish
You won't look stupid, really not stupid at all
And I forbid myself, to say that I don't care
And I forbid you, to force our children
Who have done nothing to you, to bark in Flemish
And if my brothers are silent, well too bad for them
I sing, persist and sign, my name is Jacques Brel

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