Translation of the song lyrics A quoi tu sers ? - Jean-Jacques Goldman

A quoi tu sers ? (original)

Tu parles, parles, c’est facile, mme sans y penser,
Les mots, les mots sont immobiles, tris, rangs, classs.
Laisse allez, laisse les jouer,
Se cogner, te sduire,
«sensualiser», te bouger,
Quand a veut plus rien dire.
Swinguer les mots, les mots, sans a,
On va les rtrcir.
Swinguer les mots, ne surtout pas
Toujours les rflchir.
Les mots, l’mo, l’motion vient,
Les mots font l’motion,
Cote que cote, coute-les bien
Rythmer nos draisons.
Les sons, les sons, laissons les rires,
Faut pas les couter,
Juste pour viter le prie,
On va les dchainer.
A quoi tu sers, Pourquoi t’es l?
Qu’est-ce que t’espres?
a quoi tu crois?
Y’en a qui meurent, qui prient pour un morceau de terre,
y’en a qui risquent leur vie pour passer la frontire,
Y’en a qui bronzent et d’autres s’font la peau plus claire,
Certains s’effraient au fond quand d’autres font des affaires.
Mais y’a toujours la lune qui s’mfie du soleil
Et quand tout a changera, c’est pas demain le veille,
Certains smatchent ou labourent, d’autres soignes ou bien peignent,
C’est toi, c’est ton tour, qu’est-ce que t’as dans les veines?
A quoi tu sers?
Pourquoi t’es fait?
Terminus terre.
un seul ticket.
Y’en a qui grimpent en l’ai pour un peu plpus d’silence,
Y’en a qui vivent sous terre o a hurle, o a danse,
T’en a qui pointent des comptes quand d’autres comptent des points,
Y’en a qui lvent des croix pour ceux qui n’y croient pas.
Y’en a qui pincent des cordes, y’en a qui frappent des peaux,
Certains «import exportent» ou bien se jouent des mots,
Y’en a qui s’font des billes quand d’autres tombent les filles,
Certains ne donnent qu’au hommes, mais d’autres n’aiment personne.
Mais y’a toujours la lune qui s’mfie du soleil,
Et quand toiut a changera c’est pas demain la veille,
Y’en a qui courent une vie pour gagner deux diximes,
A psent c’est ton tour qu’est-ce que tu nous amnes?
A quoi tu sers?
Pourquoi t’es fait?
T’as la lumire, et puis aprs?

A quoi tu sers ? (translation)

You talk, talk, it's easy, even without thinking about it,
The words, the words are immobile, sorts, ranks, classes.
Let go, let them play,
bump into, seduce you,
"sensualize", move you,
When a doesn't mean anything anymore.
Swing the words, the words, without a,
We'll narrow them down.
Swing the words, especially don't
Always think about them.
The words, the mo, the emotion comes,
The words make the emotion,
Side by side, cost them well
Rhythm our reasons.
The sounds, the sounds, let the laughs,
Do not listen to them,
Just to avoid praying,
We'll unleash them.
What are you for, why are you here?
What are you hoping for?
what do you believe?
There are those who die, who pray for a piece of land,
there are those who risk their lives to cross the border,
Some tan and others make their skin lighter,
Some are scared deep down when others are doing business.
But there's always the moon that distrusts the sun
And when everything changes, it's not tomorrow the day before,
Some smatch or plough, some heal or paint,
It's you, it's your turn, what's in your veins?
What are you for?
Why did you do it?
Land terminal.
one ticket.
There are some who climb in the air for a little more silence,
There are those who live underground where they scream, where they dance,
You have some who score points when others count points,
There are those who raise crosses for those who don't believe in them.
There are those who pluck strings, there are those who strike skins,
Some "import export" or play with words,
There are some who make marbles when others fall girls,
Some give only to men, but others love no one.
But there's always the moon that distrusts the sun,
And when everything changes it's not tomorrow the day before,
There are those who run a life to earn two tenths,
Now it's your turn what are you bringing us?
What are you for?
Why did you do it?
You have the light, so what?