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| Versione inglese cantata da Pierre de Gaillande
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| THE BAD REPUTATION | BAD REPUTATION |
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| 'Round here, with no exaggeration | In my corner of the nation |
| I have a bad reputation. | I have a bad reputation |
| Stayin’ dum’ or trying my best | Whether I speak or I shut up |
| They’d just want me under arrest | They treat me like a you-know-what |
| Ain't doing no harm, not picking a bone | Yet I do no damage to anyone |
| Going round in my own way all alone: | Following the road of the simpleton |
| But those folks they sure don’t like me | But good folks don’t appreciate |
| I follow a different path, you see. | Someone whose path may deviate |
| No, those folks they sure don’t like me | No good folks don’t appreciate |
| I follow a different path, you see.. | Someone whose path may deviate |
| They slander me most every day, | Everyone likes to curse at me |
| Except the mutes needless to say! | Except the mutes, obviously |
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| When the Fourth Day comes in July, | The morning of Independence Day |
| Inside'n my cosy bed I lie | My cozy bed is where I lay |
| The music that struts by in time | The music of the marching bands |
| I disregard, it isn’t mine. | Doesn’t impress me worth a damn |
| Ain't doing no harm, not picking a bone | Yet I mean no one any harm at all |
| With my disrespect towards the clarion sound. | When I shut my ears to the bugle call |
| But those folks they sure don’t like me | But good folks don’t appreciate |
| I follow a different path, you see. | Someone whose path may deviate |
| No, those folks they sure don’t like me | No good folks don’t appreciate |
| I follow a different path, you see.. | Someone whose path may deviate |
| Everyone points a finger my way, | They point the finger right at me |
| Except the handless, needless to say! | Except of course the amputees |
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| When a luckless thief does me pass | When I cross a thief on the run |
| With a redneck on his ass, | Chased by angry Farmer John |
| I stick out a foot. Is it a sin, | I stick my foot out as they pass |
| The redneck plows the earth with his chin? | And Farmer John lands on his ass |
| Ain't doing no harm, not picking a bone | Yet it’s not my wish to cause any grief |
| Givin’ a hand to poor men on the run. | By championing the cause of the petty thief |
| But those folks they sure don’t like me | But good folks don’t appreciate |
| I follow a different path, you see. | Someone whose path may deviate |
| No, those folks they sure don’t like me | No good folks don’t appreciate |
| I follow a different path, you see.. | Someone whose path may deviate |
| All these types hurl themselves my way | The mob will chase me with their flames |
| Except the legless, needless to say! | Except of course for all the lame |
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| No need to be Jeremiah | No need to be Jeremy |
| To divine the fate for this pariah | To see where my story leads |
| If they find a rope to suit their taste | If they find a suitable rope |
| They’ll pass it ‘round my neck with haste. | They will slip it around my throat |
| Ain't doing no harm, not picking a bone | Yet I do no damage to beast or man |
| Wandering on roads far away from old Rome, | When I shun the paths to the Vatican |
| But those folks they sure don’t like me | But good folks don’t appreciate |
| I follow a different path, you see. | Someone whose path may deviate |
| No, them folks they sure don’t like me | No good folks don’t appreciate |
| I follow a different path, you see.. | Someone whose path may deviate |
| They’ll see me sway from a dogwood, | The world will watch my hanging day |
| Except the blind, well understood! | Except the blind, or so they say |
