L'enfant seul [English translation]

You’re like a candle

That someone forgot to put out in an empty room

You shine among the dejected who want to snuff you out

The one who has the least toys

Gets the least love

The one who lets people shit on

His bruised heart, murderous is your jealousy

The lonely child does not trust anyone, not by

Choice but by resentment, in terms of friends

His shadow suffices

A loneliness that follows you 'til it comes to sex

My lyrics differentiate the lonely child into two species:

One that fucks excessively but would rather

Stick with one woman than a 1,000 ass-cheeks

While the other kind often hears the same

Song at the post office and bears the grief of a

Dead relationship and remains with wet eyes

The lowered head leaves the heart on the stomach

Stomach on the knees, my sadness has no equal

Except that of the lonely child’s muted rant

That no one listened to

[Chorus](x3)

You're the lonely child

(I know it's you)

Are you from the lower rungs

Or the new neighborhoods?

Anyway, deep down it’s all the same suffering

My words are befitting, people see themselves in them

Like a puddle of water, my words mirror them like a sad reflection

But is it my fault?

You're the lonely child, it's not easy, we understand each other

Few know

That I know, you're surprised

He stares out the window at the loneliness eroding him

To sugarcoat the quinine like a sweetener

"We must stay vigilant, we must break free," they say

They don't discuss it further, they confuse rhyming with acting

Running away and suicide, a pact, an ad campaign without ads

Barely a word, nobody has ascertained that filthy wish

The desire to let go with a dangling neck

To punish their parents who waited too long

To love their child, 'cause if love was a race

The child's birth would be the starting line, boredom

As a pastime makes for foolish parents

Nagging mastery, sentiments set in cement or else

In six years, I'll be found with scissors in my skull

In a puddle of blood

[Chorus](x3)

The lonely child is the silent nobody in the back of the class

The one who is laughed it, chubby like

Coluche, or the boss in the lobby among a massive

Group, the bone in the steak haché, stabbing

Anyone applying for his position

Because hiding behind a street kid's tomfoolery is

Often a child suffering in an emotional abyss

Growing up without a father is hard

Even if the mother perseveres

It helps, but not in finding one's bearings, that's for sure

Losing a mother is worse! Ask Pit, I assure you

You haven't fully grasped it, take away the sea from the Côte d'Azur

When these kids push away their suffering too

We all know no one truly heals from their childhood

Even a hairy torso cannot forget life as the

Child of a divorce, thrashed around by his stepfather

The lonely child is you, them, him, her

Oxmo Puccino, a voice like honey