More songs by Crayon
Description
The world has fallen apart into pixels, and memory into fragments of smells and glare. Once upon a time, these words were warm and alive, but now all that remains is the screen's backlight and a voice that seems to whisper from behind glass. Butterflies turn into knives, tenderness into static, touch into a swipe. Everything seems alive, but without a pulse.
It sounds like longing for a body that cannot be embraced, for a country where feelings remain, and for people who have already been replaced by notifications. And yet, somewhere inside, a small hope trembles: if you repeat ‘everything is fine’ long enough, maybe it really will get easier.
Lyrics and translation
Original
Quand tu m'parles de papillons, j'vois des couteaux et puis des portières.
La javel et des chiffons ne pourront effacer les fautes d'hier.
Quand tu m'parles de papillons, j'vois des couteaux et puis des portières.
Et puis des portières.
Dis-moi, que reste-t-il?
Je caresse ton visage sur mon écran tactile.
Que reste-t-il du paysage? Dis-moi, que reste-t-il?
Dis-moi à quoi tu penses quand tu regardes dans l'vide.
Dis-moi qu'est-ce que tu vois.
Dis-moi, que reste-t-il?
Souvenirs se mélangent à force de faire semblant.
J'vais bien finir par y croire.
Vais-je oublier ton nom à force de faire semblant? Dis-moi, que reste-t-il?
Je caresse ton visage sur mon écran tactile.
Que reste-t-il du paysage?
Dis-moi, que reste-t-il? Je caresse ton visage sur mon écran tactile.
Que reste-t-il du paysage?
Dis-moi, que reste-t-il?
English translation
When you talk to me about butterflies, I see knives and then doors.
Bleach and rags will not be able to erase yesterday's mistakes.
When you talk to me about butterflies, I see knives and then doors.
And then doors.
Tell me, what's left?
I caress your face on my touch screen.
What remains of the landscape? Tell me, what's left?
Tell me what you think about when you stare into space.
Tell me what do you see.
Tell me, what's left?
Memories get mixed up by pretending.
I'm going to end up believing it.
Will I forget your name by pretending? Tell me, what's left?
I caress your face on my touch screen.
What remains of the landscape?
Tell me, what's left? I caress your face on my touch screen.
What remains of the landscape?
Tell me, what's left?