Pardon my French,

you know what I mean.

We’ve been on that stage,

didn’t conquered the scene.

Convicted to the loft,

we still carried on.

Making our music

so much more than a song.

 

You like it to be messy and I mostly want it tight.

Those opposites don’t matter,

au contraire it sounds alright.

So my friend keep fiddling on,

I'll make sure I follow along.

Two brothers still standing strong.

 

Creative men must do there work, or they get locked in.

Mais oui monsieur, that line is good,

don’t throw it in the bin.

Let’s just try it one more time

and make a sick and fearful rhyme.

Two brothers being sublime.

 

And so I say merci pour la musique,  mon bon ami

My French still stinks, I’ll never learn,

but hey, c’est la vie.