As a child on my way along streets or on benches
Books on my back, within gob range,
I discovered exile, its trials and tribulations
This scent of solitude, this little insistent tune
Later, when taking into account the obvious, the conventional meaning
Of sentences sibylline in their innuendos
Tired of failing, my beloved, on the side of certainties
I filled my solitude
That ailment no unguent can cure
Exile for life, you see, on the side of certainties
This scent of solitude
Oh life on the side of certainties x 2
Let immigrants go back to Immigreenland
Right away, all foreigners to Foreignistan
Waltzing to the beat of the late Jean-Marie’s tirades
Or Auntie Eulalie’s slaps [?]
How intoxicating! No, thanks
Exile for life, you see, on the side of certainties
This whiff of solitude
Oh life on the side of certainties x2
La la la...
Oh Oh life on the side of certainties...
Sometimes I pretend to get busy, I sing
The intoxication of being nothing if not distress
To be already dead or else take vows of silence
Let someone tell me the difference
All of these thirty years I’ve been waiting
Exile for life, you see, on the side of certainties
A simple matter of habit