Petit Pays

In the hills
In the valleys
They were killed before they died
They fled before they left
In the hills
In the valleys

A sheet and a pen calm my insomniac delusions
Far in my exile, little country of the Great Lakes of Africa
Remembering my life before the war
Struggling to recall my sensations without repatriation
Little country, I send you this postcard
My rose, my petal, my crystal, my homeland
It's been a long time, the bougainvillea gardens
Memories enclosed in the dust of a folded book
Under the sun, the tin roofs sparkle
Farmers clear the land by setting fire to twigs
See, my existence had started well
I'd like to start over from the beginning, but you know how it is
And here we are lost in the streets of Saint-Denis
Before we're senile, we'll go live in Gisenyi
We'll make the ground shake like the rumblings of our volcanoes
So little country, when do we fly away from war?

In the hills
In the valleys
They were killed before they died
They fled before they left
In the hills
In the valleys

Little piece of Africa perched at altitude
I doubt my loves, you'll remain my certainty
Reputation covered by a shroud
Little country, for three months, everyone left you alone
I admit I pleaded guilty to hating you
When all the spotlights were turned to Zaire
We had to rebuild my little country on bones
Mass graves and our incessant nightmares
Little country: Making you smile will be my redemption
I'll offer you my life, starting with this song
Writing healed me when I was falling apart
Just let me cry when that damn month of April comes
You taught me forgiveness so I could start anew
Little country, in the shadows the devil continues his maneuvers
You want to live despite the nightmares that haunt you
I'm the seed of exile of a remnant of a shooting star

One night of bitterness, between suicide and murder
I scribbled these few lines with the neutral tip of my marker
I'm past the age of pamphlets when we revel
I only know love and the fear that it will leave
I've dreamed too long of silence and the northern lights
By being too wise, I hung myself with my halo
I scribbled texts to explain my sorrows
Bujumbura, you're my firefly in my European wandering
I was born a long time ago in August
And since then in my head, it's the season of doubts every day
I grieve and seek a haven of peace
When Africa turns into a corpse
Ages die like loves
Man, I have no more sleep and I watch like a hawk
Let me live, word of a misanthrope
Name me one dream that has gone all the way to its own end

In the hills
In the valleys
They were killed before they died
They fled before they left
In the hills
In the valleys

Little country
When you cry, I cry
When you laugh, I laugh
When you die, I die
When you live, I live
Little country, I bleed from your wounds
Little country, I love you, that I'm sure of

In the hills
In the valleys
They were killed before they died
They fled before they left
In the hills
In the valleys

In the hills
In the valleys
They were killed before they died
They fled before they left
In the hills
In the valleys

In the hills
In the valleys
They were killed before they died
They fled before they left
In the hills
In the valleys