Love, hum hum, not for me,
All these “always”,
It’s not clear, it plays tricks,
It approaches without showing itself,
Like a velvet traitor,
It hurts me or tires me depending on the day
Love, hum hum, it's worthless,
It worries me about everything,
And it disguises itself as gentle,
When it roars, when it bites me,
So yes, it's worse than anything,
Because I want, hum hum, more again,
Why do this pile of pleasures, of thrills, of caresses, of poor promises?
What's the point of letting yourself be taken back
Your heart racing,
Understanding nothing about it ,
It's an ambush,
Love doesn't work,
It's not Saint Laurent,
It doesn't fit perfectly,
If I can't find my style, it's not for lack of trying,
And I'm giving up on love!
What's the point of this pile of pleasures, of thrills, of caresses, of poor promises ?
Why let yourself be recaptured,
The racing heart,
Not understanding anything about it,
It's an ambush,
Love, hum hum, I don't want it
I prefer some of the time
I prefer the taste of the wind
The strange and sweet taste of my lovers' skin,
But love , um hum, not really!

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