La véritable histoire de Jack le tueur à gage

Jack une fois de plus rentre tard,
Son pas est pressé, il a peur du noir,
Cette nuit c'est la sienne, il veut émouvoir,
Il ne pense qu'à ça depuis très longtemps car...

Car Jack est un tueur, un tueur à gage,
Il ne recule jamais pour appuyer sur la détente.
Car jack est un tueur, un tueur à gage,
Il ne recule jamais c'est ça qui fait la différence.

En montant le perron, il croise la concièrge,
Il lui dit "bonsoir madame" pensant mon dieu que vais-je faire?
Ses pas sont lourds, pourtant ses chaussures sont légères,
C'est primordial dans son métier pour s'faire la belle.

REFRAIN

La clé glisse dans la serrure en un silence étrange,
Jack pousse la porte son taudis ressemble à une grange,
Derrière lui il pousse le verrou : il veut que personne le dérange,
Puis tombe sa veste dévoilant son arme où il la range.

REFRAIN

En un éclair métallique son arme se retrouve dans sa main,
Sur la tempe il se l'applique sans se soucier du lendemain,
Il revoit tous ces visages qu'il a effacé sans chagrin,
Tout ça pour de l'argent, pour ces véreux d'politiciens.


Et si ce soir vous étiez là, vous auriez vu un éclair,
Et si ce soir vous étiez là, vous auriez entendu sa prière.



TRUE STORY OF JACK THE HIRED KILLER

Jack once more returns late,
His step is pressed, he is afraid of the black.
This night it is his, he wants to move,
He thinks only of that for a very long time because…

Because Jack is a killer, a hired killer,
It never moves back to support on the trigger.
Because Jack is a killer, a hired killer,
It never moves back it is that which makes the difference.

While climbing the perron, he meets the caretaker,
He tells her “good evening Madam” thinking “my-god what I will make?”
His steps are heavy, however his shoes are light,
It is paramount in his trade to run away.

Because Jack is a killer, a hired killer,
It never moves back to support on the trigger.
Because Jack is a killer, a hired killer,
It never moves back it is that which makes the difference.

The key slips into the lock in a strange silence,
Jack pushes the door his slum resembles a barn.
Behind him he pushes the bolt, he wants that nobody disturbs him.
Then fall his jacket revealing his weapon where it arranges it.

Because Jack is a killer, a hired killer,
It never moves back to support on the trigger.
Because Jack is a killer, a hired killer,
It never moves back it is that which makes the difference.

In a metal flash sound weapon is found in his hand,
To the temple it applies it without worrying about the following day.
He re-examines all these faces which it erased without sorrow,
All that for money, these shady of politicians.


And if this evening you were there, you would have seen… a flash.
And if this evening you were there, you would have heard… his prayer.