You're always too much of something
or too little.
All these doors to go through,
wide as needle holes,
the checkpoints to pass.
You'd want to be an eel,
somewhat thin, somewhat smooth
to do like Alice and slip into
the wonderland.
The wonderland.
They stick under our noses
on every poster, in every showcase
these strange beanpoles
that get dizzy
from all their diets.
You're always too much of something
Too much or too little
Too much or too little
I'm too big.
Me, I'm too big.
I know the drill.
Of course they're right,
so I say it too :
I am too big.
I am too big to fail indeed
and I made it regardless.1
I've experienced all the Protected Designation of Origin
since kindergarten.
That builds character.
The good-heartedness of the fatties
is nothing but anger
stored under the skin.
(Under the skin)
They even made up replacement words
in order to insult us better.
Politically correct,
you're not fat,
no, you're plump, stout, portly.
I know all about
the world's hypocrisy too.
I know all about it.
(I know all about it)
I'm too big.
Me, I'm too big.
I know the drill.
Of course they're right,
so I say it too :
I am too big.
I am too big to fail indeed
and I made it regardless.
I'm too big.
That didn't kill me.
I know the drill.
Of course they're right,
so I say it too :
I am too big.
I am too big to fail indeed
and I made it regardless.
I made it regardless.
till here
I made it regardless.
1. the French plays on both meanings of "trop fort" (too fat/awesome)