But one day his life changed Yeah, one day his life changed When he meets sweet José And he kept on living and reached sixty And feeling like a dead old trip Boudu dies, dies the same sad night… So, you know that Boudu was A poor and lonesome playboy So far away from his luck Fanaticized by 2’000 years Of superstitions, of traditions Paid with a crucifix story So Boudu becomes a monk When, digesting, he dreams that At five o’clock God calls him Boudu, slither like that biblical creed’s snake To cheer up the lost flock That his money is put in well For the benefit of the Vatican So, one day, to meet the sweet José Boudu, digesting and dreaming Drives the parochial car Squinting with staring eyes, knotting his tie He crashes a stop track He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead…