Le Mal De Vivre

It doesn't warn you when it hits, it comes from afar
It wandered from shore to shore, with a smirk on its face
And then one morning, when you wake up, it’s almost nothing
But it’s there, it lulls you to sleep in the small of your back

The pain of living, the pain of living that you have to endure, come what may

You can wear it like a crossbody bag or like a piece of jewelry in your hand
Like a flower in a buttonhole or just at the tip of your breast
It’s not necessarily misery, it’s not Valmy, it’s not Verdun
But it’s tears in your eyes at the dying day, at the coming day

The pain of living, the pain of living that you have to endure, come what may

Whether you’re from Rome or America, whether you’re from London or Beijing
Whether you’re from Egypt or Africa, from the Saint-Martin gate
We all say the same prayer, we all walk the same path
It’s long when you have to walk it with pain in the small of your back
They may want to understand us
Those who come to us empty-handed
We don’t want to hear them anymore, we can’t, we can’t take it
And all alone in the silence of a night that never ends
Suddenly we think of those who didn’t make it back

The pain of living, their pain of living
That you have to endure, come what may

And without warning, it hits, it comes from afar
It wandered from shore to shore, with laughter on its lips
And then one morning, when you wake up, it’s almost nothing
But it’s there, it amazes you, in the small of your back

The joy of living, the joy of living, you have to live, your joy of living