V.O.S. [English translation]

Just like a gas invades a labyrinth,

nostalgia took over my heart

and though I have a pair of eyes, of ears,

without you, sound and colour lose their sense.

I can't get rid of the bad habit of waiting for you at home

while leaning my head on the glass,

and when I fog the window up with a sigh,

I draw a noughts-and-crosses that I end up in a tie again.

If one day we bump into each other,

don't reply nor take notice of the subtitles that you know

how to see below my smile.

I will tell you I'm winning.

I will deny I'm crying.

I'll pretend time healed everything.

I can't seem to do anything without realising it

(I can't get rid of the bad habit of waiting for you...)

and it's the price for learning not to cry.

And even if sometimes nothing indicates a compensation,

I refuse to turn around

and become a minor again.

If one day we bump into each other,

don't reply nor take notice of the subtitles that you know

how to see below my smile.

I will tell you I'm winning.

I will deny I'm crying.

I'll pretend time healed everything.

And, in fact, I never forget you.

You were my only path and your smile a good motive

to become someone better.

And even if they tell you they saw me

as a princess in some story,

there's no need for me to tell you

that they are stories only.