.Quatre boules de cuir tournent dans la lumière
De ton Åil électrique, Boxe, Boxe,
à déesse de pierre
Quatre boules de cuir, mes poings contre les siens,
Moi le jeune puncheur, Boxe, Boxe,
Lui, le vieux Kid Marin
Kid Marin c'est un grand et Dieu sait que je l'aime
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