DON'T LET US SELL
(TRANSLATION)

Hendaya beach, how clean.

Let's sell the sand of the beach.

Over all the rocks,

the laws of the concrete rules.

Speculate, you rich monsieur,

take our land freely.

At the agencies: "Cheap and good"

the promoters have everything for sale.

DON'T LET US SELL

DON'T LET US SELL ANYMORE

The unemployed are fleeing

across the streets of luxurious houses.

As there's nothing to eat at home,

gotta get outa home.

In the old district of Saint-Denis, in Paris,

a whore's screming

"Come on, dear!"

"Come on, dear!"

at the corner os a street.

DON'T LET US SELL

DON'T LET US SELL ANYMORE