Mon apéro [English translation]
Mon apéro [English translation]
You can give lessons in morality
When you have tasty soup and a nice fire,
But when you have nothing,
You take pleasure where you can get it.
In the neighbourhood, they wind me up
I prop up the bar.
It's true that I ramble with the drunks
Whenever I have a heavy heart.
Others are searching for complicated things,
But since I hate fakeness,
It's at the edge of the counter
That every night I have
My aperitif...
I talk to the landlord.
I call him by his nickname.
Well he's a nice fattie.
Like the males, I say to him:
"Arthur, go on!"
And I play a round of zanzi* with him.
The gramophone plays a java.
Boredom slowly fades away.
Everything seems fine
And I drown my profound boredom,
For an hour, at the bottom
Of an aperitif...
When I was sixteen, as I was a beautiful girl
All the guys gave me their sales pitch.
Then, I started living it up.
It started, I don't know how.
They paid for everything without a word.
I had a car and hotel
But I always had to smile,
My heart was queasy with bile
And I dreamed of a little mechanic
Who'd offer me nothing but kisses
So, to chase away the dark,
I drank in every bar
Aperitifs...
Climbed on a stool,
Steeped in my cup,
A straw
And in front of the tired dancers
I felt taken by the chazes^ of the shoemaker
Richer in love than me
He kissed a typist
Every day
And I had nothing to console
My sorry heart
Except my aperitifs...
But the cocktails turned my head,
So I soon quit the job
I'm back, God life is stupid,
Back in my old neighbourhood.
It's here, my little church,
And nothing has changed at home... nothing!
Nothing, except my heart, this grey prison,
Where everything remains unfamiliar.
Sadly, happiness doesn't last long.
Seeing that love buggered off,
I came back to the counter
Where in the evening they bought me
Aperitifs...
I no longer believe in anything at all
Landlord, another one
And make it strong!
It's annoying, yes, when I see the heavens again
And in my dream, I'm fishing for innocent dreams
Slumped from hard knocks
I haven't gotten hold of the right number
The number...
And my heart, empty of love
No longer has real help
The aperitifs...
- Artist:Édith Piaf