As soon as I heard this song, I couldn’t resist to relate it to Colette. Most of the lyrics fit perfectly with my headcanon take on her. This song starts with Colette’s childhood in France until the moment she moved away with Vandevere to America. Before meeting Holt. This is how she would’ve felt during that transition in my headcanon.
Translation here:
Good evening, monsieur, madam.
Today, I say all to you
I prefer speaking to you with ‘you’ (informal)
Because I dislike the ‘You’. (formal)
.
I find that makes you older
And me, I want to remain young.
A boy for life,
Without hankerchieves, nor shouts.
.
So go ahead,I say all to you
On the drama I live.
Every day, in hell
That’s where I live.
.
I’d like to leave
Escape far from all
Of this crazy world
And go I don’t know where
.
This world strangles me, crushes me and burns me
Destroys me, it prevents me from living in my bubble.
.
So, I would leave
Far from all, just escape.
Let me run far away
Letting this world to ban.
.
If God says that the suicide is a sin, then,
He has to say how I leave, without harming him.
.
He has to change me into that doctors call it “mad”
And so maybe I will see in the blur.
.
So, dear Mister “D”,
Help me, love me.
I can’t do it
In this world that I see.
.
In this world of fights
Where the Man is just a brute
Where love is nothing anymore
Only quarrels and disputes.
.
I’d write to me a world
A planet only for me
A planet on which I feel myself.
A renovation without chains
With no hate.
.
A planet on which
You’ll give me wings
A new universe
Where the tears, the pains
Would be just a myth.
Only one fucking urban legend.
.
So, let me leave
Say to me how to escape.
.
Enough asked questions
Let me, I want to leave all.
.
The only thing I love
In your creation : man.
That’s he can dream every night, like kids.
Whatever we’re old, young, bad
Nice, or also ugly.
.
We’ve the right of dreaming
Without even anything in the pockets.
Beggar, I implore the night
I beg for hope.
.
But the night is stingy
Madam, keep her morphia.
Because I didn’t pay
Or perhaps, not enough.
.
Born from parents without wealth,
She refuses me the moon.
Since of course, in this world
We can’t live with these numbers
That your children have changed into naughty monsters.
.
Every month you earn them
Every day you lose them
.
The bill is hard
I give the bill back, I leave hell.
.
That’s right, I confess I may be defeated
I confess, I assume
The life is eating me with a bad bitter taste.
.
Then, listen to me shouting
Vomit all my guts
In this sound that tells the life of a pessimistic jerk.
.
I’m feeling alone, fuck!
Nobody holds my hand
No one to share this glory with, fuck!
.
I’m walking alone on a way
Which seems to be without tomorrow
I go faster but nobody waits for me a the end.
.
So, every night I drink
I’m getting drunk
In order to forget, that finally
The success makes you lonely.
.
No friends, no life
I’m vacuum-closed
Many ennemies, no more going out
God, I need a guide.
.
Some clowns will say
That I abuse, I exaggerate
But fuck those assholes
‘Cause I’m young and I’m struggling!
.
In my head it’s a mess
Who has switched the light off ?
Mummy, I don’t see clear anymore
I need some light.
.
First it’s happiness
When you give to your heart.
To eat one love
That soothes your pains.
.
You forget your misfortune
But, finally, it’s just a bait
In this idiotics’ generation, full of liars.
.
One time the heart is broken
No need to call it
Loneliness arrives
It comes fast to find you.
.
It doesn’t wait for you to open, no!
It comes in without knocking
Your blues’ strikes are for it a snack to eat.
.
So, who are you? Deep down, do you know?
‘Cause I don’t know who I am anymore, I’m lost.
My ambition is large, hard to satisfy
My happiness taste like a bitter flavor.
.
So, monsieur, madam
I confess, I’m unhappy.
And however I live my brat’s dream.
But that’s stronger than me, I still miss this
That and that over there always more. I’m like that!
.
So, I hope one day
I could make love with a sincere person
Who will not play tricks on me.
.
I’m really fed up with giving with no return
I’m fed up with loving me,
With no soulmate, that’s hard!
.
But know all the same,
That on scene, grace to You
I think that I’m far from this crazy world!
.
’Cause I write when I’m making a mistake
And I laugh when I’m dancing
And I live when I’m singing
And for all of that, I say to you:
Thank you.
I think this fits perfectly! I can imagine her feeling rather bitter that even though she now has opportunities she could never have dreamed of, the dark side of her deal with the devil is already beginning to creep in around the edges.
