When you are dead among the dead,
 And drag yourself among the living,
 When everything chucks you out the door
 And slams it shut with a gust of wind,
 No to be young and loved anymore...
 Behind a closed door,
 All that's left is to jump into the water
 Or buy yourself a packin' heat.
 Yes, Gentlemen, that's all that remains
 To the cowards and the bastards.
 But if the fear of this gesture
 Clings to you like the jingle of a collar bell,
 If you are scared to slit your wrists,
 You can still take the gamble
 Of a trip to Monte-Carlo.
 Monte-Carlo, Monte-Carlo.
 My day is done.
 I want to sleep on the sea-floor
 Of the Mediterranean.
 After you've sold your soul,
 And pawned your jewels
 That you will never claim back,
 The roulette wheel is a beautiful toy.
 It's a nice thing to say: "I am gambling."
 It fires up your cheeks
 And lights up your eye.
 Under beautiful mourning veils
 You carry a beautiful widow's name.
 A title gives you pride!
 And crazed, ready for anything, a new woman,
 You take out a casino card.
 Look at my feathers and my veils.
 Admire the sequins of the star
 That leads me to Monte-Carlo.
 Luck is a woman.
 She is jealous
 Of solemn widowhood.
 No doubt she thought I was the wife
 Of a real colonel.
 I won, I won on the twelve!
 Then dresses become unraveled,
 Fur sheds its hair.
 As much as you say: "I want,"
 Once luck starts to hate you,
 Once your heart is nervous,
 You can't move a muscle,
 Push a chip on the table,
 Without luck stepping aside
 Changing numbers and cards
 On the tables in Monte-Carlo.
 Thugs, buzzards, mangy rascals!
 They threw me out... out...
 Accused me of being dirty,
 Of jinxing their gaming rooms,
 Their filthy stuccoed gaming rooms.
 Me, who would have given away my system
 For free, to the Prince, to the Princess,
 To the Duke of Westminster, to the Duke,
 Yes, that's right!
 It's gotta stop,
 They yelled to me, this business of yours!
 This business of yours!...
 My discovery.
 I'll withhold it from the green felt tables.
 It'll serve Monte-Carlo right.
 Monte-Carlo.
 And now I, who am talking to you,
 Will not say how much weight
 I lost in Monte-Carle.
 Monte-Carle or Monte-Carlo.
 I am but a shadow of myself...
 The winning formulas, the systems
 And the croupiers who have the right
 To rap you on the fingers
 When you're about to filch an ante.
 And the B&B where you owe
 And always the same shirt
 That anxiety drenches in water.
 They can whistle for it.
 Not that dumb.
 Tonight I will dive head first
 Into the sea at Monte-Carlo.
 Monte-Carlo.