Je t'aime mélancolie

I have this urge
To see my life in bed
Like a fixed idea
Every time I'm told
The wound is this:
It grows too fast
The weeds are a pain
That's when an idea hits me:
To wallow in my misery

It's just my luck
I suffer in silence
I wait for my pain
Her lips are so sweet

I have this urge
To see my life in bed
Like a fixed idea
That haunts me at night - at night - at night
I savor the night
The thought of eternity
The weeds are a pain
Because they never die

When everything's gray
Pain is my friend
A long, bitter suicide
I love you, melancholy
A feeling that
Leads me to infinity
A mix of the worst, of my desire,
I love you, melancholy

When everything's gray
Pain is my friend
My soul is damp too
My whole being tips over
Oh come on, please
It's your friend too
It's the elixir of my delusions
I love you, melancholy

I have this urge
To see my life in the air
Every time I'm told
It's just weeds
And I say:
A wild one born
Is worth being valued
After all, it often mocks
The "too good" cultivated ones, and bam!

It's just my luck
I suffer in silence
I wait for my pain
Her lips are so sweet

I have this idea
About morality
Like a sad thought
But it never dies
In short, it's this:
To please the jealous
You have to be ignored
But there, but there, but there, for once
It's God who planted me, so???