Mordre dans tons cœur [English translation]

Sweetness of the night and of one look,

you draw me to this ploy that will get me astray.

And over my cross, I'll wait until morning.

Sweetness of dew, sweat and tears,

those pearls that I drink on your skin.

Let me burn, let me burn inside you.

Through this knife that caresses you,

I'm ready to fall

in the well of pain.

I could bite,

I could bite your heart.

Sweetness of the dagger that tears you up.

Sweetness of our bed of thorns.

Sweetness of the flames that make us fall into ashes.

And on the open wound

you pour your poisons,

the well of pain.

I could bite,

I could bite your heart.

If I try... if I try, I know.

If I play, I lose what I've won.

Still, so strong.

How can I spit the words to tell you

that if I play I know I can't win?

Through this knife that caresses you,

I'm ready to fall

in the well of pain.

I could bite,

I could bite your heart.

Turn that flame off, drink this abyss.

My heart is the true place of your crime.

Quite bitter, this cross I've loved.

If I try... if I try, I know.

If I play, I lose what I've won.

Still, so strong.

How can I spit the words to tell you

that if I play I know I can't win?

Still, so strong.

How can I spit the words to tell you

that if I play I know I can't win

without you?