F.i.in.e Moods

- with rough translation...

« 

Sa mère, elle l'aimait plus, parce que son père, il l'aimait trop

Ça fait qu'elle est tombée dans la rue, une bonne poussée dans l'dos

Elle a perdu l'fil de ses idées au bout d'l'aiguille qui fait rêver

On n'a pas tous une tendre enfance, c'était plutôt d'la délinquance

Her mother, she didn't love her anymore, because her father, he loved her too much
So she ended up on the streets, a good push in the back
She lost the thread of her thoughts at the tip of the needle that makes one dream
We don't all have warm childhoods; hers was more like delinquency

Elle n'a jamais trouvé de raisons pour expliquer

Pourquoi que dans une foule, elle est toujours isolée

Elle n'a jamais trouvé de raisons pour expliquer

Pourquoi que desfois la vie est déjà toute tracée

She never found reasons to explain
As to why in a crowd, she's always isolated
She never found reasons to explain
Why sometimes, life is already all mapped out

Sans un bon encadrement, elle n’peut pas être sage comme une image

Pour elle, changer d'foyer d'accueil, c'était juste changer sa cage

Tout ce qu'elle voulait, c'était sa chance, un p'tit coup d'main pour faire sa place

Mais le p’tit coup de main, y'en a plusieurs qui voulaient juste y mettre dans la face

Without proper guidance, she couldn't be "as good as gold"
For her, to change foster home, it was just changing her cage
All she wanted was her chance, a little helping hand to find her place
But the little helping hand, there were many who only wanted to slap it across her face

Elle a grandi dans la rue, dans l'fond des ruelles sans issues

La société des allumés qui vivent de la misère qui tue

Dans la vie, tout s’vend, tout s'achète, et y'a b’en plus d'acheteurs qu'on pense

Y'en a plusieurs qui fixent ses prix, sa délinquance

She grew up in the streets, in the back alleyways without exits
A society of the illuminated who lives off misery that kills
In life, all's for sale, all can be bought, and there are more buyers than we think
There are many who set their prices, their delinquency

Elle n'a jamais trouvé de raisons pour expliquer

Pourquoi que dans une foule, elle est toujours isolée

Elle n'a jamais trouvé de raisons pour expliquer

Pourquoi que desfois la vie est déjà toute tracée

She never found reasons to explain
As to why in a crowd, she's always isolated
She never found reasons to explain
Why sometimes, life is already all mapped out

C'est l'genre d'histoire que l'monde aime b’en, avec une belle fin prévisible

Avoir que’que chose tous les matins, ça finit par être invisible

Mais j'pense que j’vais vous décevoir, c'n’est pas d’ma faute, c'est son histoire

Moi, j'fais juste la raconter, c'est elle qui décide où aller

This is the kind of story that people like a lot, with a nice predictable end
Having something to eat each morning, it ends up becoming invisible
But I think that I'll disappoint you, it's not my fault, it's her story
I'm only retelling it, she decides where she goes

Sa mère n'la connaît plus, parce que son père, il l'aimait trop

P’is c'est comme ça qu'elle a su comment qu'on sauve sa peau

Elle a repris au fil des années tout ce qu'on lui avait enlevé

Elle a compris qu'on fait sa chance, on n'attend pas qu'les autres y pensent

Her mother doesn't know her anymore, 'cause her father, he loved her too much
And that's how she found out how you save your skin
She took back over the years all that was taken away from her
She understood that we make our own fortune, we don't wait for others to think of it

Elle a trouvé toutes les façons pour se cacher

Maintenant dans une foule elle est toujours dissimulée

Mais elle n'a jamais cherché d'façons pour oublier

Elle regarde le monde autour desfois pour se rappeler 

She found every way to hide herself
Now in a crowd, she is always camouflaged
But she never searched for ways to forget
She looks at people around sometimes, to remind herself

 »

Vilain Pingouin - Roche et Roule - 06 - Délinquance

Fuck you.

That's all I can

Say right now.

If it weren't for me,

You wouldn't have

The space to let it out.

It's obvious by your snubs

What you think of me.

And that's alright.

I don't like you either.

So fuck off; I mean it

From my heart.

And yes, I sure feel

Much better for this

Little outburst of mine!

- follow-up to ''The Awakening'' ... the letter that followed...

How could she ever heal

from the violence he did

and how on earth would she

with the way he suggested

He sent her a letter a few

months after his attack

he said he'd use a knife and

slice himself each day 'til

she's healed from all the

pain he caused her that night

He said her caring love freaked

him out and he doesn't know

He called it a beast inside him

one he didn't know lurked

She didn't quite know what to

make of his words, still doesn't

Doesn't he realize that she'd

not be the same she used to be

after having gone through his

episode of whatever it may be

That the likelihood that she'll

ever get back to herself is nil

how he killed her abilities for

spontaneity and feeling secure

When a friend makes another

friend kiss the brink in this way

it breaks something in you

Makes you feel things differently

So for him to even suggest

what he's doing now, beggars belief

In the same token, his apology

ended with a new request for help

He called her his Guardian Angel

but throttled, battered, tattered

on the floor he left her to fade out

Could she realistically ever forget

- he died alone... by his own hand...

The day you slipped away,

seemed like all the flowers

wilted under a dark shadow

The sun didn't seem right

although it was shining

And the birds in the sky

only looked like sketches

a painter jotted down for

his memory to recall later.

Aside the numbness

of a deep pain inside,

it was the blandness that

coveted each moment

with such force of fury

and such persistance

that made me realize

this emptiness is from now

holding my hand until the

last breath in me is exhaled.

The day you slipped away,

more than anything, joining

you on the train you were in,

is all my heart desperately

yearned even though it knew

too well it'd be an uninvited

guest who shouldn't be there.

Missing your love is hurtful

but losing it is beyond any

coherent explanations.

The death of an angel,

my own irreplaceable one,

endures as the day a part

of my demolished self

fell further down the stairs

into the cellars where my

resolve, in the torture

chambers, was already

being punished for existing.

The day you slipped away...

Even comfort in songs disappeared.

When you look disrespectfully
at the voluptuous beauty’s unhidden shapes,
the skimpy fashions she wears to please,
do you ever stop a moment
to notice what the eyes
are truly telling?

When you look disapprovingly
at the multi-colored hair, wildly styled,
the shiny piercings covering his lovely face,
do you ever stop a moment
to realize what the meaning is
under the surface?

When you look disgustedly
at the passed out truant on the sidewalk,
the empty bottle of yesterday’s wine lying there,
do you ever stop a moment
to wonder what brought this soul to
lose all connection?

When you look obliviously
at the world’s sickening full-spin madness,
the importance of fortune over life,
do you ever stop a moment
to weigh the surreality of
our dulled senses?



Do we ever stop a moment?