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Love
Love, it's not for me
All of this "Forever"
It's not clear, it plays tricks.
It sneaks up on you
Like a velvet traitor
It wounds me or leaves me be depending on the day
Love is worth nothing
It makes me worried about everything
And it disguises itself in softness
When it grumbles, when it bites me,
Then yes, it's worse than anything
For all I want is more
Why make this heap of pleasures, of shivers, of carasses, of poor promises?
What good does it bring? (Literally: "To what good it allows itself to retake")
The heart is pounding
Nothing understands it
It's an ambush
Love isn't good at all (Literally: "Love it does not go")
It's not Saint Laurent (Saint Lawrence)
It doesn't fall perfectly.
If I don't find my style it's not for lack of trying (Style could mean type)
And love I will let fall
What good does this heap of pleasures, of shivers, of caresses, of poor promises do?
What good does it bring? (Literally: "To what good it allows itself to retake")
The heart is pounding
Nothing understands it
It's an ambush
Love I don't want any of it
I prefer from time to time
I prefer the taste of the wind
The strange taste and the soft skin of my lovers
But love, not really.
rick2000sept✕
Comments
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About translator
Some lines do not directly translate. For example:
The whole "L'amour, ça ne va pas" is similar to the greeting. In French you can ask somebody "ça va?" and the could reply "ça ne vas pas". This basically means "How are you?" with a response of "Not well" although it doesn't translate directly.