Complainte du progrès
Boris Vian
Complaint of Progress
Back in the day to woo
We'd talk of love, it's true
To prove our fiery zest
We'd offer up our chest
But now it's a whole new deal
Things change, things change
To charm the dear angel
We whisper in their ear
(Ah? Gudule!)
{Refrain 1:}
Come kiss me, my dear
And I'll give you, never fear
A fridge so cool
A scooter, no fool
An atomixer, a thrill
And a Dunlopillo to chill
A stove with glass so clear
Lots of cutlery, my dear
And cake spatulas, so neat
A salad spinner, a treat
A fancy air freshener
To devour all the smells
Heated sheets for the cold
A waffle iron, bold
A plane for us two
And we'll be happy, it's true
Back in the day if we'd fight
We'd leave the scene, take flight
Leaving dishes behind
With a gloomy mind
But now, oh what a fuss
Life's so expensive, thus
We say: go back to your mother
And keep everything for each other
(Ah! Gudule)
{Refrain 2:}
Apologize, or else
I'll take back all my wealth
My fridge, my spoons so fine
My iron sink, my oil stove divine
My shoe shiner, my slug ironer
My mirror stool, my filth hunter
The salad spinner, the vinaigrette maker
The trash compactor, the fry cutter
And if the beauty
Still shows defiance, such cruelty
We kick her out, no remorse
To take charge of her course
{Coda:}
To the fridge, the dust eraser
To the stove, the always-made bed
To the shoe warmer, the potato cannon
To the tomato guter, the chicken skinner
But very soon, you see
A tender soul comes to be
Offering their heart so pure
And we give in, for sure
For we must help each other
And live like this, till the next bother