Lyrics of La Station - Jeanne Cherhal

La Station (original)

Comme j’aimais le dimanche,
Quand dans la R9 blanche
De papa nous allions visiter la station.
En famille on partait,
Mais jamais il n’avouait
Que c'?
Tait la station
La vraie destination.
Pour ce genre d’aventure
Il faut une couverture,
Une balade officielle
Un peu plus consensuelle.
Un but p?
Dagogique,
Un pr?
Texte classique.
Une simple sortie de fin d’apr?
S-midi.
Marcher en contournant l’hippodrome ou l'?
Tang,
Dire bonjour?
Grand-p?
Re dans l’all?
E du cimeti?
Re.
Alors on y allait comme si de rien n'?
Tait,
Et puis sur le retour on faisait le d?
Tour.
Mieux que le vent d'?
T?,
Que les embruns sal?
S,
Mieux que l’herbe coup?
E,
O effluve ador?
De la station d'?
Puration.
Pour v?
Rifier une vanne,
Pour constater une panne
Ou par pure pr?
Caution,
Tout mobile?
Tait bon
M?
Me apr?
S dix-neuf heures.
M?
Me le jour du seigneur,
Aller?
La station c'?
Tait sa d?
Votion.
Alors je jubilais.
Car avec lui, j’entrais
Dans l’inqui?
Tant palais
Don’t il avait les clefs.
Devant les eaux stagnantes
Je me sentais vivante,
Dans l’odeur de moisi
Je me trouvais jolie.
Je n’allais pas, enfant,
Regarder l’oc?
An Pour dans l’azur me perdre,
Mais au bord de la merde.
Et sachez qu’en hiver,
Inhaler au grand air
Le ventre de la terre,
On dirait du Baudelaire.
Mieux que le vent d'?
T?,
Que les embruns sal?
S,
Mieux que l’herbe coup?
E,
O effluve ador?
De la station d'?
Puration.
Depuis ces heureux jours,
Je nourris un amour
Pur et immod?
Are?
Pour les?
Viers bouch?
S,
Les restes de savon
Qui engluent les siphons,
Les cheveux par poign?
Es Qui obstruent les bidets.
J’ai acquis la passion
Des canalisations.
Rien?
Mon coeur ne vaut
La vue d’un ch?
Teau d’eau.
Quand d’autres ont le d?
Go?
T Des remont?
Es d'?
Gouts,
Je n’aime rien tant que
Leur doux parfum aqueux.
Qu’un lavabo douteux
Se pr?
Sente?
Mes yeux,
Qu’une baignoire inonde
Le sol d’une eau immonde,
J’ai la ventouse au poing
Et la technique au point.
Intens?
Ment, j’aspire.
On dirait du Shakespeare.
Mieux que le vent d'?
T?,
Que les embruns sal?
S,
Mieux que l’herbe coup?
E,
O effluve ador?
De la station d'?
Puration.

(translation)

How I loved Sundays,
When in the white R9
From dad we were going to visit the station.
As a family we were leaving,
But he never confessed
That C'?
Shut up the station
The real destination.
For that kind of adventure
Need a cover,
An official walk
A little more consensual.
A goal p?
Dagogic,
A PR?
Classic text.
Just a late afternoon outing?
S-noon.
Walk around the hippodrome or the?
Tang,
Say hi?
Large P?
Re in the all?
E from the cemetery?
D.
So we just go like it's nothing?
Tait,
And then on the way back we did the d?
Round.
Better than the wind of?
You,
What salt spray?
S,
Better than blow grass?
E,
O effluvium ador?
From the station?
Purge.
For V?
Rify a valve,
To find a failure
Or by pure pr?
Bail,
All mobile?
Be good
M?
Me after?
S seven o'clock.
M?
Me on the day of the lord,
To go?
The station it?
Tait sa d?
Vote.
So I was jubilant.
Because with him, I entered
In the worry?
So many palaces
Of which he had the keys.
In front of stagnant waters
I felt alive,
In the musty smell
I thought I was pretty.
I was not going, child,
Watch the oc?
An To lose myself in the azure,
But on the brink of shit.
And know that in winter,
Inhale in the open air
The belly of the earth,
Sounds like Baudelaire.
Better than the wind of?
You,
What salt spray?
S,
Better than blow grass?
E,
O effluvium ador?
From the station?
Purge.
Since those happy days
I feed a love
Pure and immod?
Are?
For the?
Viers mouth?
S,
Leftover soap
Which stick up the siphons,
Hair by hand?
Are Which clog the bidets.
I acquired the passion
Pipelines.
Nothing?
My heart is not worth
The view of a ch?
Water bottle.
When others have the d?
Go?
T Des remont?
Are from?
Tastes,
I love nothing so much
Their sweet watery scent.
Than a dodgy sink
Is PR?
Feel?
My eyes,
That a bathtub floods
The soil of foul water,
I have the suction cup in my fist
And the technique to the point.
Intense?
Lie, I aspire.
Sounds like Shakespeare.
Better than the wind of?
You,
What salt spray?
S,
Better than blow grass?
E,
O effluvium ador?
From the station?
Purge.