J'avais Rêvé Du Nord

Between Martigues and Marseille
Dipping in the waters of Africa
Fortune decided I should sit
Just a stone's throw from Fos the septic

Where I was born, the sea stinks of diesel
Under an oxidized sky and filthy leaden sun
Falling thick like a straitjacket
In the shadows of corporate towers

Where I was born, prison and plastic horizon
Every patch of scorched earth like the Arizona desert
Only pesky flies buzzing around
In this gigantic sauna and

Where I was born, never too good to venture
The cops lost their balls in front of the tribes
Who’d shoot you for a glance
If your face is too pale

'Cause where I was born, it ain't France anymore
Our Gothic splendors
Of crumbling stone
Tagged with exotic insults

Yellow with blue eyes, all burnt out
Planted in the wrong scenery
Searching for my rightful destiny
I suddenly dreamed of the North

Of virgin, wooded expanses
Of a gentle permafrost
Where I’d never again cross
The eternal ebony aversion

I wanted to shatter Helios
To turn back all his arrows
So he’d crash like an Airbus
Between Marseille and Marrakech

And you appeared to me, mirror, brother of hate
Generous provider of sunsets and ice
Discordant horn of European resentment
Blowing filth on the detractors of my race

You, Black Metal! Forged in the night of garages
Like a homemade shell
Half-dream, half-rage

You, Black Metal! Bursting from the guts of the earth
Like a huge anal probe
Blowing up entire cities!

You, Black Metal, steel that slits throats
Fatal national spur
Making roses bleed red

You, Black Metal, whose wings I suddenly borrowed
Of a massive northern raven
To tear myself far away, towards nobler citadels!