Chanson cri

I want my song to be like a wake-up call
Between a trendy tune and a charming singer,
And even if I don't sing loud enough,
I want you to listen to me for three more minutes.

When we hear about women being raped,
For many of us, it just stays as words.
We discuss, we get outraged, we close the paper
Then we end up finding it almost normal.

Yesterday, I met one of those victims.
For the police, it’s just routine work
And for others, it’s hardly a story.
I saw the distress deep in her eyes.

I washed her body covered in sperm and blood.
The guy was barely a teenager.
He did it quickly, without love or pleasure.
They say he cried before he ran away.

My God, what have we done to get here?
What do we need to do to stop all this?
My head is revolting and my heart is broken
And I hurt for her and I’m ashamed for him.

But who among us has never violated someone,
Just talking about those petty little rapes
That are part of our everyday lives
And drown our thirst for love in tears?

Power, money, strength, and contempt,
The authority of the father and that of the husband,
The stupid strictness of the enforcers of order
That creates the enraged they keep from biting.

Because it’s our children they call the underworld,
Leftist punks, black junkies, and other outcasts,
All those who, to survive, seek to dream,
Those who look for the beach beneath the cobblestones.

And if I come to sing on television,
In the established framework of consumption,
With the approval of the prince and the court,
Don’t think it’s to give a speech.

It’s not to convince you or to please you
Or to sing the ideas that are already in the air
But it’s to ask for a better today
While simply doing my job as a singer.

I say the boat is taking on water from all sides.
It’s time we try to patch it up.
Victim or criminal, both are involved
And if there’s a culprit, we’re all condemned.