À quoi je sers [English translation]

Living dust,

I search for my Milky Way to no avail

In my upheaval,

I only found a mausoleum

And I ramble

I am afraid of emptiness

I turn pages

But... the pages are blank

Roving dust,

I could not find my way

Asking each hour for whom,

For what I should recover

And I ramble

I am afraid of emptiness

What are these tears for?

Tell me... Living? To what end?

But my God, what do I look like?

I am no use at all

And who could tell me, in this hell,

What we are expected to do? I admit

That I no longer know what my purpose is

I am probably of no use at all

But now I can keep quiet

When everything repels me

Burning dust,

Fever got the better of me

I laugh without laughter, I live,

I do anything

And I ramble

I am afraid of emptiness

I turn pages

But... the pages are blank

But my God, what do I look like?

I am no use at all

And who could tell me, in this hell,

What we are expected to do? I admit

That I no longer know what my purpose is

I am probably of no use at all

But now I can keep quiet

When everything repels me