|
He thinks that man is me, |
|
Without a second glance, |
|
This stranger he has found, |
|
This man could be my chance, |
|
Why should I save his hide? |
|
Why should I right this wrong? |
|
When I have come so far, |
|
And struggled for so long, |
|
If I speak I am condemned, |
|
If I stay silent I am damned. |
|
I am the master of hundred of workers, |
|
They all look to me, |
|
Can I abandon them? |
|
How will they live if I am not free? |
|
If I speak they are condemned, |
|
If I stay silent I am damned. |
|
Who am I? |
|
Can I condemn this man to slavery? |
|
Pretend I do not feel his agony? |
|
This innocent who wears my face, |
|
Who goes to judgement in my place. |
|
Who am I? |
|
Can I conceal myself forever more? |
|
Pretend I'm not the man I was before? |
|
And must my name until I die be no more than an allibi? |
|
Must I lie? |
|
How can I ever face my fellow man? |
|
How can I ever face myself again? |
|
My soul belongs to God I know, |
|
I made that bargain long ago, |
|
He gave me hope when hope was gone, |
|
He gave me strength to journey on. |
|
Who am I? Who am I? I'm Jean Valjean. |
|
And so today you see it's true, |
|
This man bears no more guilt than you. |
|
Who am I? 24601. |