| Sur les trottoirs je pense à toi | On flagstone streets, my thoughts return to you, |
| Sur les boulevards je pense à toi | Along the grand boulevards, you haunt my stride, |
| Dans la nuit noire je pense à toi | In the obsidian hush, I gather you anew, |
| Même s’il est tard | Though midnight’s hour is deep and wide, |
| Sous les réverbères je pense à toi | Beneath the gaslight’s trembling aureole, you gleam, |
| Dans la lumière je pense à toi | Within the molten hush of silver dawns, |
| Tous les hémisphères je pense à toi | Across each hemisphere—my shadow, my dream, |
| Sous la poussière | Under layers of dust where memory fawns. |
| On était beau | We were a vision—beauty etched in flame, |
| Pourtant on accélérait sans freins | Yet onward, wild, we raced with ruined rein, |
| On s’aimait trop | Our love—a conflagration none could tame, |
| Pour s’aimer bien | Too fierce to ever love with gentle pain. |
| On était beau | We were a vision—burning, brief, and bright, |
| Souvent, quand on souriait pour rien | Often our laughter spilled for naught, |
| On s’aimait trop | We loved too much—devoured by delight, |
| Pour s’aimer bien | Too much to love with the measure we ought. |
| Je me réveille je pense à toi | I wake—each vein threaded by your name, |
| Encore someille je pense à toi | Still half-adrift in velvet, longing’s haze, |
| Trop de soleil je pense à toi | Too much of summer’s glare—your breath, your flame, |
| C’est plus pareil | The world transfigured, lost in glaring blaze. |
| On funambule, je pense à toi | I walk the high wire—heart in trembling sway, |
| On me bouscule je pense à toi | Jostled by crowds, yet all I feel is you, |
| Si je recule je pense à toi | Should I retreat, your voice calls me to stay, |
| Je suis ridicule | And I—a jester, lost, without a clue. |
| On était beau | We were a vision—beauty etched in flame, |
| Pourtant on accélérait sans freins | Yet onward, wild, we raced with ruined rein, |
| On s’aimait trop | Our love—a conflagration none could tame, |
| Pour s’aimer bien | Too fierce to ever love with gentle pain. |
| On était beau | We were a vision—burning, brief, and bright, |
| Souvent, quand on souriait pour rien | Often our laughter spilled for naught, |
| On s’aimait trop | We loved too much—devoured by delight, |
| Pour s’aimer bien | Too much to love with the measure we ought. |
| Je suis désolée je pense à toi | I am contrite—your shadow will not fade, |
| Presque obsédée je pense à toi | Obsessed, your image stirs in every hour, |
| Dépossédée je pense à toi | Stripped of myself, by absence unmade, |
| Trop fatiguée | Too weary now—my will, my strength, my power. |
| Sur toutes les routes je pense à toi | On every road, your echo turns me round, |
| Si je m'écoute je pense à toi | If I would heed myself, still you remain, |
| L’ombre d’un doute, je pense à toi | A shadow of doubt—your whisper’s sound, |
| Je me dégoûte | Self-loathing, sharp as acid rain. |
| On était beau | We were a vision—beauty etched in flame, |
| Pourtant on accélérait sans freins | Yet onward, wild, we raced with ruined rein, |
| On s’aimait trop | Our love—a conflagration none could tame, |
| Pour s’aimer bien | Too fierce to ever love with gentle pain. |
| On était beau | We were a vision—burning, brief, and bright, |
| Souvent, quand on souriait pour rien | Often our laughter spilled for naught, |
| On s’aimait trop | We loved too much—devoured by delight, |
| Pour s’aimer bien | Too much to love with the measure we ought. |
| Tu sais j'étouffe je pense à toi | You know—I choke in longing’s subtle snare, |
| Quand je découche je pense à toi | When, far from home, I wander through the night, |
| Je perds mon souffle je pense à toi | I lose my breath—your absence, thin as air, |
| Au bord du gouffre | Perched on the chasm’s rim, the void in sight. |
| Encore un soir je pense à toi | Another dusk—your memory burning slow, |
| J’ai le cafard je pense à toi | My soul, a withered moth, skulks in despair, |
| Dans le brouillard je pense à toi | In fogbound corridors, I search and go— |
| Je peux pas y croire | I cannot trust the world is as it was, or where. |
| On était beau | We were a vision—beauty etched in flame, |
| Pourtant on accélérait sans freins | Yet onward, wild, we raced with ruined rein, |
| On s’aimait trop | Our love—a conflagration none could tame, |
| Pour s’aimer bien | Too fierce to ever love with gentle pain. |
| On était beau | We were a vision—burning, brief, and bright, |
| Souvent, quand on souriait pour rien | Often our laughter spilled for naught, |
| On s’aimait trop | We loved too much—devoured by delight, |
| Pour s’aimer bien | Too much to love with the measure we ought. |