If Guillaume Apollinaire Had Been in Funkadelic

In the end you are weary of this ancient world
So wide can't get around it
So low you can't get under it
So high you can't get over it

You've had enough of living in Greek and Roman antiquity
This is a chance, this is a chance
Dance your way out of your constrictions

Here even the cars look antique
(Tell sugah)
Only religion has stayed new, religion
Has stayed simple like the hangars at Port-Aviation
Gonna be freakin', up and down

And shame keeps you whom the windows are watching
From entering a church and going to confession this morning
Hang-up alley way
With the groove our only guide
We shall all be moved

Ready or not here we come
There's the morning's poetry and as for prose there are the newspapers
There are 25 cent tabloids full of crimes
Celebrity items and a thousand different headlines
Gettin' down on the one which we believe in

This morning I saw a pretty street whose name I forget
The inscriptions on the signs and walls
The billboards the notices squawk like parrots
I love the charm of this industrial street

One nation under a groove
Gettin' down just for the funk
(Can I get it on my good foot)
Gettin' down just for the funk of it
(Good God)

Jesus climbs into the air
They shout if he's so good at flying let's call him a fugitive
Those priests that are forever ascending carrying the host
Finally the plane lands without folding its wings
'Bout time I got down one time

One nation and we're on the move
Nothin' can stop us now

Now you're walking in Paris all alone in the crowd
Feet don't fail me now

Herds of buses amble by you mooing
The anguish of love tightens your throat
As if you were never going to be loved again
Give you more of what you're funkin' for
Feet don't fail me now

Do you promise to funk?
The whole funk, nothin' but the funk

Now you're on the shores of the Mediterranean
Under the lemon trees that are in flower all year long
You go boating with some friends
Ready or not here we come
Gettin' down on the one which we believe in

Here you are in Marseilles in the middle of watermelons

Here you are in Coblenz at the Giant Hotel

Here you are in Rome sitting under a Japanese medlar tree

You are in Paris getting interrogated
They're arresting you like a criminal
Here's your chance to dance your way
Out of your constrictions
(You can dance away)

You suffered from love at twenty and at thirty
I've lived like a madman and I've wasted my time
You don't dare look at your hands anymore and all the time I want to cry
Over you over the women I love over everything that's terrified you
Feet don't fail me now

Here's a chance to dance
Our way out of our constrictions

You're standing in front of the counter at a sleazy bar
You're having coffee for two sous with the down-and-out

At night you're in a big restaurant

These women aren't mean but they do have their troubles
All of them even the ugliest has made her lover suffer

Gonna be groovin' up and down
Hang up alley way
The groove our only guide

I humble my mouth now to a poor hooker with a horrible laugh
You are alone morning is approaching
Milkmen clink their cans in the streets

We shall all be moved
Feet don't fail me now

And you drink this alcohol burning like your life
Your life that you drink like an eau-de-vie

Givin' you more of what you're funkin' for
Feet don't fail me now

You walk towards Auteuil you want to go home on foot
To sleep surrounded by your fetishes from the South Seas and from Guinea
They are Christs in another form and from a different creed
They are lower Christs of dim expectations

Here's my chance to dance my way
Out of my constrictions

Goodbye Goodbye

Givin' you more of what you're funkin' for

Sun slit throat