All language subtitles for spotlight.on.a.murderer.1961.720p.bluray.x264-bipolar

SPOTLIGHT ON A MURDERER

Original Story

Co-starring

Music composed and conducted by

The song 'The Funerals of Yesteryear' by

Production Manager

Director of Photography

Camera Operator / Assistants

Production Designer

Costumes

Assistant Directors / Script Supervisor

General Manager / Make-Up / Hair / Stills

Editor / Assistant Editor

Sound / Assistants

Venito...

...et...

...naquest.

"Men who love glory,

"take care of your tomb.

"Sleep well there.

"Try to keep looking good.

"Because you'll be there a long time."

Don't sulk, Micheline.
I'm more annoyed than you, you know.

We're nearly there.
Pull up in front of that gate.

What do I do while I wait for you?

There's a little inn in the village.

- How delightful.
- It's just for a day and a night.

A night is a long time.

I hope there's a cinema
in this godforsaken place.

- Yes, the Paroissial.
- The Paroissial.

I'd never have recognised you
in that get-up.

If we ever get married one day,

will you wear that again?

If you think this is for fun...

I know, it's for your family.

- If you could see yourself!
- What's wrong?

You're wearing your long face.

- What do you think?
- As if I'd ever set foot there.

Not today, anyway.
You see the lake?

You follow the railings at the back.
There's a door that doesn't close,

and in front, there's a pontoon.
See you there tonight at ten.

- I'll be arriving in a gondola.
- Very well, Your Excellency.

But if I find a marquis during the day,
that's too bad for you.

That's enough now.

Physical threats?
We're not in the Middle Ages!

Yes.

...this meeting, I confess,
is taking unexpected turns.

In what way, sir?
Could you be more specific?

I've previously mentioned
how we should...

...we should wait until
we're all here.

Good day.

Please excuse me.
I seem to be the last.

Please be assured that
you have all the time in the world.

Hello, Jeanne.

You haven't met my husband.

Claude Beno�t-Sainval,
music teacher.

Jean-Marie, medical student.

Christian de Kerloquen,
still unemployed.

Do you know Edwige,
our German cousin?

Gentlemen.

We are now all here.

Ladies and gentlemen,

all I can do is repeat

for the benefit of
Jean-Marie de Kerloquen, your cousin,

what I said a few moments ago.

Your uncle,
M. Herv� de Kerloquen, has vanished.

The day before yesterday, when
I contacted you, the Count was dying.

The doctor caring for him
was certain:

the Count couldn't
last another night.

As of now, M. Herv� de Kerloquen
is unquestionably deceased.

But where did he go to die?

And why did he think it was
a good idea to disappear?

A mystery.

But does this affect the estate?

It changes everything.

If the body is not found,

you cannot claim your inheritance
for five years

from the presumed
date of death.

Article 115 of our Civil Code.

Excuse me, I don't understand.

If he's dead,
we have to wait five years?

That's unacceptable!

It's the law.

It's the first time I've heard this.
When my father died...

Yes, but the Colonel died in his bed.

He was there.
You closed his eyes.

On the other hand, your uncle...

Look, sir, you tell us that
there's no doubt about his death.

Listen,

medically, he is dead.

But legally, he is missing.

My apologies, gentlemen,
but there's nothing I can do.

But a dead man
should be easy to find.

We've looked everywhere.

In his state,
he couldn't have got far.

Would you like to see the premises?

I am at your disposal.

TO OUR LATE UNCLE

Who brought this?

I did. I thought that...

Optimist.

Have you seen Jeanne again?
Is she still acting strange?

- Unfortunate timing.
- Debts?

Yes, debts.

For two months, M. de Kerloquen
didn't leave this room.

During this last week,
he couldn't even sleep.

His heart disease
was too far advanced.

He stayed there,
seated in that armchair.

He suffocated.

But he still found the strength
to don his Knight of Malta costume.

- Are you sure about this?
- Certain.

- The outfit was not in his wardrobe.
- He must have lost his mind.

According to tradition, Knights of Malta
were buried in their habits.

- Nobody was by his side?
- No-one.

When he wanted something,
he'd call Marthe.

You all know that there's
a hidden room here.

The one used by M. Charrette
that famous Thursday in 1895.

You believe in this hidden room?

I've curated for national museums.
I know about these things.

We should demolish the place.

Not for five years.

And to think this is worth millions.

Millions? Hundreds of millions,
you should say.

- He has possessed us.
- You should say "dispossessed us".

And don't forget that,
during these five years,

you'll have to maintain this castle,

sustain all the costs,
pay all the taxes...

Pay with what?

- We could sell something.
- Remember, five years.

- In which case we'll borrow.
- Borrow against what, madame?

- Nothing belongs to you here.
- This is infuriating!

So, what do we decide?

Like so many others,
we could open the castle to visitors.

Guillaume, we appoint you curator.

We still need to know
if we have the right.

Nothing says we can't.

I say it's a scandal.
You haven't got a chance.

Just who we need!
Marthe!

You know how the Count
felt about this.

Strangers in the castle!
He didn't even like his family there.

If you had taken better care of him,
we wouldn't be here.

The Count ordered me
to leave him alone.

You no longer have to worry
about what the old fool wants.

I swear to you that if I'd been there,

I'd have locked him in his room.
He wouldn't have left it alive.

Good God,
if the poor man could hear you

wherever he is.

- So, gentlemen, your decision?
- We will move into the castle.

We'll find him eventually.

Do we have a hope?

How can I say, my dear sir?
I'm a notary, not an archaeologist.

You're such a killjoy!

You make me drive 500km,
barking orders the entire length,

you buy a wreath,
and then there's no body!

Get back in, now.

So, are you going to
let me visit your castle?

On one condition:

that you shut up.

I'll be as silent...

...as a carp!

So I'm the carp.

You, speak.

In the 13th century,

a wicked gentleman
by the name of Simon de Kerloquen

lived in the castle
with his very young wife �liane.

He was our great-great-
great-great-great-great-

great-grandfather.

The Count had
only one passion: hunting.

And soon, �liane took
a handsome young knight as her lover.

When the Count left the castle,

�liane went up the tower and attached
a white scarf to the highest window.

Seeing this signal,
the knight came running.

One day, the Count left as per usual,
with his spearmen and his hounds.

Far away, in the forest,

they could hear the sound of trumpets
and the yelping of the pack.

How could the lovers suspect anything?

But it was all a ruse.

Leaving his hunters,
the Count returned to the castle.

Sword in hand,
he went upstairs to �liane's room.

There was a terrible duel
between the two rivals.

The husband killed the lover.

In desperation,

�liane ran to the tower.

She untied the scarf
that symbolised her love,

and, pressing it to her heart,

she threw herself into the void.

So, Micheline...

I want to go up the tower.

Behind this door is the big gallery,
the treasure room.

Birds come in via the arrow slits.

They fly around the tower
but can't get out.

And what's that over there?

Those are the attics...

...and the ghosts.

If this castle was mine,
I know what I'd do.

I'd organise a son et lumiere show
about the legend of the lovers.

You'd have a full house every night.

Micheline, my darling,
you are a genius.

No, let me go. I can't.

You don't realise
how much I love you.

You love me, but you left me.

- But remember, before...
- Oh, be quiet.

It's too late.

I see it all now.

In love with your cousin,

a dishonest, louche sort of man.
Frankly, a creep.

They must have told you
a lot of stories about me.

We'd better marry her,
quickly, before it's too late,

to a composer,

an artist,

a failure, yes.

It's so difficult.

Jeanne...

- Jeanne, I'll go and speak to him.
- No, Andr�, I beg you.

Listen, I haven't told you everything.

He seems so sweet and inoffensive,

but he's jealous, he's sick.

He's watched me.
He is watching me.

Several times, he's locked me up,
imprisoned me.

I'm scared.

You're so nervous.

But you have nothing to fear.

Listen to him.

He's so far away.

I beg you, take me away.

In the thirteenth century...

It's not working. There's an echo.
Bring it down.

Count Simon de Kerloquen...

and his young and
beautiful wife �liane...

Well, my dear Guillaume,
how's the hiding place?

I've found nothing.
No mention of anything underground.

However, I've brought along
some in-depth research

by my eminent friend and colleague
J�r�me de Saint-Macoult.

Saint-Macoult!

Carry on, my friend, carry on.

And you, how's it going?

I'm on my second bottle.

It shows.
But is the text nearly finished?

Be gentle, don't hassle me.

Inspiration isn't like electricity.

It's much less abundant.

Listen to this:

"Many centuries ago,
where you now are,

"there was nothing.

"Wolves howled across the land

"and quenched their thirst in a lake
which those who dwelt nearby

"called 'Kerloquen'.

"In old Celtic: 'pool of beasts'.

"One day, a knight was passing,

"let his horse drink there

"and thought that the place was divine.

"He settled there,
and built a castle."

That's ridiculous.
And 'Kerloquen' doesn't mean that.

Who cares?

Tourists want medieval stuff,
pomp and heraldry.

Oh, come on! The crime and the cuckold,
that's what they're interested in.

Nothing else.

- Hello.
- Good morning.

Everything's fine
in the courtyard.

Have a listen.

M. Beno�t is grumbling because we put
a loudspeaker in his chapel.

He doesn't want to be disturbed.

Let's ignore him
and focus on our work.

Two projectors have already broken down.

I'll deal with that tomorrow.

You'll have other things
to do tomorrow.

I'll do it myself.
The power's off, isn't it?

Yes, all of it.

It was Julien, Marthe's husband,
who discovered the accident.

But who turned the power back on?

Must have been a workman
who didn't know any better.

They're the only ones
who operate those devices.

Will he turn himself in?

He would have done it already.

The cops spent two hours
in the castle.

Besides, that's not going
to being Henri back.

And what do your cousins say?

Between ourselves,
we're very discreet.

Except when our own
interest is at stake.

Tomorrow, the walls are being probed.
The day after, the lake will be drained.

Guillaume has summoned
a radiesthetist.

An astonishing guy, it seems.

Do you think we're all
a bit strange?

Even you.

All this forbidden fortune at hand,

it's enough to make
anyone a bit insane.

Look at me.

It's true that you're
no longer the same.

What's the matter?

It's becoming untenable.

We watch each other as though
we don't have the same interests.

We used to be friends.

This whole castle, to us.
Now we don't even know each other.

So let's leave them
and go on a little trip.

No.

Why not?

I was the one who passed on
your son et lumiere idea.

What will they think if I run away?

You won't let yourself down
in front of your family, hey?

So stay.
But I'm not from Sir's family.

I'm off.

I've had enough of your castle
and your treasure!

That was Edwige.

That's what I thought.

The horsewoman. Is she just out
and about, or off to meet someone?

What are you suggesting?

So what?
That's only natural at her age.

She's a widow, she's young,

she's pretty.

A date?
You clearly don't know her.

I'd like to know her.

Tell me, Jean-Marie, I ask myself,

is it me that you don't want
to meet your family

or your family that you
don't want to meet me?

You're not presentable.

Yvan?

Coming.

What do you want from me?

Sort out Princess.
She's covered in sweat.

That's no surprise,
with the way you ride her.

I want your help,
not your advice.

It's nearly 11pm.

That's an order.

It's hot to the point of
croaking in there.

Have you been working long
at the castle?

Six months.

What was the Count like with you?

Like you.

Do you enjoy riding this late?

I love the night.

Take off my boots.
They're sticking to my skin.

Don't hit that hard, Andr�.
You'll knock me out.

Don't speak, gentlemen.

Don't speak.
I can't record the sound.

So, cousin, still looking?
If you can't find our uncle,

maybe you'll find an oil well.

I pity these unfortunates
who do not believe in anything.

It's there.

Your uncle must have
thrown himself into the moat.

Look at my pendulum.

What did I tell you?
It's infallible.

No point carrying on,
your uncle isn't there.

And it's pitch dark in there.
We'll have to drain the lake.

You're leaving the
Count de Kerloquen's room.

and you're now entering
the grand gallery,

formerly the guard room.

First of all, on your right...
First of all, on your right...

Hello?

I say, old chap, the disc is
stuck, stuck, stuck...

Yes, I can hear it.
Thanks.

...a 15th-century stone fireplace...

There you go.

Thank you.

A fresco created by
a great Florentine painter,

overhanging French symbols: three
gold lilies on an azure background,

which illustrate the presence in
this place of the King of France.

All around this room, the walls,
whose brocades with gold thread

support four Gobelin tapestries

of considerable artistic
and historical value.

They were given to the
Kerloquens by Louis XIV,

after he stayed in the castle
in September 1699.

In front of the monumental
chimney, a Louis XIII table

showcases a remarkable collection.

There are 15th-century swords,

solid gold handles and cross-guards
inlaid with precious stones.

The scaled-down armour
represents, point by point...

If only we had the courage...

...while fighting under
the banner of Fran�ois I.

Oh, for God's sake!

It's loaded.

...on the large Renaissance
table, a surprising collection...

7,642...

9,872..

25,000.

32,000...

18,000...

4,963...

320,000.

320,000?
What's this all about?

The electrical equipment.

That's impossible.

You must have added
something to that.

Your percentage.

I'm surprised that you're
taking that tone with me.

A percentage?

That word, coming from you...

I'm sorry?
What are you insinuating?

What I'm insinuating?

Only what everyone knows.

If you're doing here
the things that you did in Africa

and which you called
"speculation" over there,

you'll end up in court.

How about a punch in the mouth?

Calm down, my friends.
You're not hitting each other over this.

We'll pay. How much?

Around 2.5 million,
so that's 350,000 each.

Hell!

Actually, no.
If you'll permit me...

It comes to more than 400,000.

How?

- We're only six now.
- Only six?

Henri is dead.

You'd already forgotten him.

It's only our spiritual cousin
amusing himself.

There must be another distraction.

There's something else here?
Tell us.

Yes, tell us.

The more I drink,

the clearer I see.

Marthe, take that away.

You didn't know that his wife
is cheating on him?

At this very moment,
she's with her lover,

while he plays the harmonium.
Oh, it's still on!

I think that we have to think again

about how we're going to do it.

What am I going to tell him?
What are you going to tell him?

I've already told you
that I'll go and speak to him.

No!

No, not that!

What you're telling me
is appalling.

Claude killed Andr�.

Anger, jealousy...

And her? She didn't go and throw
herself from the top of the tower?

Such a tormented girl...

Now don't get carried away.

No, I was thinking about the legend.

The returning husband: Claude.

The death of the lover: Andr�.

The woman's suicide: Jeanne.

Aren't you struck by the coincidence?

There's no proof that Jeanne
was Andr�'s mistress.

I know her,
and I can't believe it.

She collapsed when the cops
came looking for her husband.

I hope this time
that you're going to back out.

I'm starting to think
that old Marthe was right.

Listen, Micheline,
just think a little.

Everything's ready.

The inauguration takes place
in three days.

So you're carrying on?
Two deaths won't stop you?

I warned you. I'm leaving you.
I'm going back to Paris.

Jeanne!

Jeanne!

Jeanne!

No, you're no longer sleeping.

This is not a bad dream

in which a door was opened,

in which a woman was surprised,

and in which a man was killed.

Don't look for me, Jeanne.

You cannot see me.

But me, I see you.

I see you.

I see you.

Jeanne!

It's because of you
that Andr� is dead.

You're guilty, Jeanne.
Guilty.

Guilty!

Edwige!

She's gone, the little cow.

Jeanne?

Jeanne!

You're miles away.
Sit down.

- What's wrong?
- Nothing.

Yes, there's something.

I don't dare enter my room.

Why?

Someone talks to me.

And yet when I call you,
you don't hear me.

I hear a voice,

a voice all around me.

Everyone's hearing voices here.

It's a loudspeaker.
The castle's full of them.

What does it say to you,
this voice?

It says that I'm guilty.

It torments me.

You're not guilty, Jeanne.

I was told
that when you were little

you were easily spooked,
you walked in your sleep.

But now, you're a big girl.

Don't be alone.
Come and have some tea.

I've stopped the record player
and I've cut the power.

- So, Julien, did you understand?
- No.

- Come closer. I'll explain it again.
- No.

Why not?

I don't like electricity.
I'm scared.

I don't want to die,
like M. Henri.

Somebody'll have to look after it
when we're all gone.

It's child's play.

Look.

I switch on the power.

Obviously, nothing lights up
because there's no-one in the castle.

But let's suppose that a visitor
enters the first room.

The first indicator would come on,

and then you,
you start up the record player,

and you switch the speaker
to that first room.

Now, your visitor
enters the second room.

The second indicator lights up,

you switch off the speaker
in the first room,

you put the needle
on the second track of the record,

and you switch on
the appropriate loudspeaker.

And so on.
It's not rocket science. Is it?

Do you want to try, Jeanne?

You understood it all, didn't you?

The light!

�LIANE'S TOWER
FIRST FLOOR

GRAND GALLERY

Look.
Who could be walking around?

We're all here.

And therefore...

But it can't be
a fault in the set-up.

ROYAL BEDROOM

Look.
They're entering the old man's room.

Keep calm, Jeanne.
Keep calm.

The slightest gust of wind
could start up a rocking chair.

A good ghost story
is far more exciting, though.

Don't talk nonsense.

So the old man's alive?

You saw the doctor's report.

I also saw his rocking chair.

You're not going to start that again!

It's wicked. Things have been
ruined enough already.

What's wrong?

Was it you who took the cans of beef?

Cans of beef?

Yes. There were three cans
and a tin of sardines.

Some bread has also been stolen.

What?

Someone's been stealing
from the kitchen.

But when?

Last night. Again.

Right, don't tell anyone about this.

You understand? Nobody.

Everyone's spooked enough already.

In any case, it's probably
one of Christian's jokes.

Man overboard!

OK, what's bothering you?

I'm fed up.

Worse than that, I'm bored.

Is that why you're acting the clown?

What do you want me to do?

I couldn't be a soldier like Daddy.
I don't have his health.

I can't be a banker,
as I'm broke.

I can't even be a priest,
as I don't have the faith.

What do you want a son to do?

I could be a squire.

There aren't any castles left.

It's you!
You scared me half to death!

No? Seriously?

- You could always kiss me first.
- You owe me an explanation.

No, not here. Come.

Oh no, not the camembert!
No!

Are you kidding me?

Come on, go.

Completely barmy.

Not at all.
I've thought of everything.

Come and sit here,
close to me.

So, what can I offer you?

I have beef.

The rocking chair, it was you.

What? You know about that?

Pretty much, yes.

What a mess you've made!
I'll explain later.

Why were you walking
around in the castle?

What are you doing here?

Oh, you'd have preferred me
to go back to Paris?

- What do you do all day?
- I think about things.

- You think about things?
- Yes, absolutely.

When you're asleep,

or when you're all outside,
I have a look around.

Two dead, and nobody knows
where your uncle is.

I wanted to get things clear.

And where did your inquiry lead you?

Nowhere, for now.

But I have worked out
some things.

And what do you get
out of these deductions?

I get that two dead people
means two fewer heirs.

In other words?

If this continues without
anybody coming under suspicion,

the last one left
will inherit the entire fortune.

What are you playing at?

With Henri, you didn't find out
who turned the power back on.

No.

And nobody knows why Beno�t
quickly left his harmonium

to go and knock Andr� out

and how he was aware
of his wife's affair.

You think one of us did it, right?

We haven't yet found
our uncle's body.

We're taking lots of risks
in waiting five years.

What risks?

The law says one had an accident, and
the other was down to a jealous husband.

Right, forget all that.

Tomorrow, it's inauguration day,
and afterwards, we'll get away from here.

You're always saying "we'll get away."

The perfect romantic getaway.

Mr. Prefect, sir.

- Oh!
- Oh no, Julien, not that.

Mr. Prefect, sir.

The Prefect is coming.

You're sure?

He's even sending us
an expert in the fine arts.

I have the confirmations,
everything's there.

- Oh, and I have invoices for you.
- Not more!

And a letter.

Thank you.

How's Jeanne this morning?

Still the same.
She hasn't come down.

I have a summons for her
from the examining magistrate.

They want to confront her
with her husband.

Talking of Beno�t, any news?

No, he refuses to make a statement.
It's ridiculous.

I find that very dignified.

This summons is not
going to solve a thing.

- There's a risk of...
- But you must give it to her.

Marthe...

Give this letter to Madame.
At once.

Very well, sir.

Jeanne!

Black suits you.

Who are you mourning,

your jailed husband,
or your dead lover?

Now she's all alone,
little Jeanne.

Alone and helpless.

At the far end of the gallery,
there was a door.

And this door led to the tower.

So �liane, desperate, fled...

�liane wanted to die.

You think that little Jeanne,
she, can continue to live?

Jeanne, follow �liane's path.

You are �liane.

Open this door.

Open this door!

Climb these stairs.

Climb!

Here, take this,
as you won't be at the party.

Quick, here she is.

Good evening, madame.

She doesn't recognise me today.
They're all rotten.

- Keep it down!
- They don't scare me.

Madmen! Drunkards!

Whores!

Mr. Prefect, sir,

what a delight to welcome you
to this rehearsal.

The pleasure is all mine,
madame.

May I introduce Monsieur Bernardon
of the Ministry of Fine Arts?

- And Madame Bernardon.
- Madame.

My dear chap,
here is the soul of the enterprise.

Allow me to introduce
you to my cousins.

In the 13th century,
this castle was inhabited by

Count Simon de Kerloquen

and his young and
beautiful wife, �liane.

The Count had just one passion:
hunting.

And so the lovely �liane
was abandoned.

On that day, as per usual,

Simon de Kerloquen
left with his men.

He went, with his spearmen,
his buglers and his dogs,

to hunt wild boar
in nearby forests.

The party had left,

so �liane climbed the tower.

To the highest window,

she attached
a long white scarf.

It is the agreed signal.

Gilles, a young
and handsome knight.

and the beautiful �liane's lover,
rushes to her.

Gilles reaches �liane's bedroom.

What cares did the lovers have?

Surely they would hear
the bugles and the barking?

But what is that galloping sound?

It's Simon de Kerloquen, returning.

The suspicious husband had
abandoned his men in the forest.

Dismounting, Simon de Kerloquen
drew his sword.

The Count climbs the stairs.

He reaches the corridor.

Three doors to go...

Two more...

Just one.

The Count forces open
the bedroom door.

�liane throws herself in front
of Gilles, to protect him,

but Simon pushes his wife aside.

Gilles falls, beaten to death.

�liane flees.

She reaches the tower.

Once again, she climbs
the narrow staircase.

Here she is at the top.
She comes to the window.

On the ledge.

She unties the white scarf,
symbol of her love,

clutches it against her chest,
and throws herself into the void.

Ring again.
I'm going to lunch.

My word, Marthe looks at us
as though we were murderers.

She hasn't forgiven us
for continuing the show.

We had permission.

- There weren't any problems?
- None.

The Prefect thinks like us.

By dint of hearing the legend
that told her story,

Jeanne ended up convincing herself
that she was �liane.

And she played the part
right to the end.

It's a case of "transference",
it seems, a medical matter.

You must have come across it,
Jean-Marie?

Yes, indeed.

What's wrong?
Why that face all morning?

Better to be on time.

This place has become chaotic.

- Did she leave some time ago?
- As per usual.

She rides her horse all day,
even at night.

She decides when we eat.

Regardless...
What is she doing?

Not that I'm worried,

but after everything
that's already happened here...

Good God!

Look at that!

These straps are worn,
and now they've split.

Where do you think she went?

In the woods, or towards the lake.
Quick, come with me.

Nothing seems to be broken.

- Listen to how she's breathing.
- What does that mean?

That she must have been knocked out.

Her pulse is racing.

- She's choking.
- Let's get her to the hospital.

20 kilometres in this state
would finish her.

So what do we do?

Let's take her back to the castle.
I'll write a prescription.

You bring me
a tube of carbogen.

Let's get her there quickly.
Gently, gently.

She's responding well.

If we get through the night without
complications, I'll be happier.

In the 13th century
there lived in this castle

Count Simon de Kerloquen
and his young and beautiful wife...

The Count only had one passion...

Is that you, Madame Marthe?
Where are you going at this hour?

- I'm leaving.
- Where to?

Anywhere, but I can't stay
in the castle any longer.

You're not staying for the show?
I was told it's beautiful.

What I saw was enough.
The Count would never have allowed it.

It's a sacrilege!

The count climbs the stairs.

Ah, the murderer!
It was you!

Really, dear cousin,

you believed in this
horse-riding accident,

in this whole masquerade?

Don't leave, dear Guillaume.

Guillaume?

Good God!

You're drunk, Guillaume!

Hello? Stop the show!

Light up the courtyard.
Arrest the man who comes out.

What?

For God's sake,
do what I tell you! Yes!

- Shoot.
- I'm sorry?

Shoot him in the legs.

But shoot him!
It's him, the murderer!

The murderer?

Whose murderer?

Oh, the old man.

TO OUR UNCLE
ETERNAL REGRETS

Long ago, dead people's relatives
used to put you at ease

With good grace they allowed
their friends to take advantage

We've a dead body at home,
if your heart agrees

Come and mourn with us
at the stroke of midday

But those living today
aren't so generous

When they have a death,
they keep it to themselves

And this is why, for many years

So many burials
happened under your nose

So many burials
happened under your nose

But where are
the funerals of yesteryear?

The little hearses, hearses, hearses,
hearses of our grandfathers

That jolted down the road

The little corpses,
corpses, corpses, corpses

Round and prosperous

When the heirs were happy

To the gravedigger, undertaker,
curate, even the horses

they'd pay a glass

They've gone forever
They've had their time

The beautiful funeral
pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-parlours

We won't see them again,
and this is very saddening

The beautiful funeral parlours
when we were twenty

THE END