Il suffirait de presque rien

It would take almost nothing
Maybe ten years younger
For me to tell you I love you
To take you by the hand
To take you to Saint-Germain
And have another café au lait

But why go through this charade
Girl, come on, look at me
And see the wrinkles that separate us
What's the point of playing the comedy
Of the old lover who rejuvenates
You yourself would pretend to believe it

What would we really look like?
I can already hear the comments
She's pretty, how can he still like her
She in spring, he in winter

It would take almost nothing
Yet, nobody, you know well
Goes back to their youth
Don't be stupid and understand
If I were twenty like you
I would shower you with promises

Come on, there's your smile
Turning to water and capsizing
You must not be sad
Imagine your life tomorrow
Right next to a clown in the middle
Of his last performance

What would you really look like?
I can already hear the comments
She's pretty, how can he still like her?
She in spring, he in winter

It's another me tomorrow
Who will take you to St-Germain
To have the first café au lait
It would take almost nothing
Maybe ten years younger
For me to tell you 'I love you'