.Vises, mon Jules,
Cette crapule
Qui nous tombe sur les bras.
Depuis le temps
Qu'on l'attend,
Comme une bombe, le voil?.
Le voil?, le printemps,
Tout fleuri de lilas
Qui rapplique en dansant,
En dansant la java.
Le voil?, ce voyou,
Au son d' l'accord?on
.
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