Dispersés
Eiffel Lyrics


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Je me tapis
Sous des volants
Je me dérobe
Et laisse des mystères
T’as vu ?
Joliment songe
Au bien séant
Tout est seyant
Nos nez s’allongent
L’hallu
Armées d’élites
Amours bâclés
Tout se délite
C’est que le monde aime
Etre émotionné

J’avais laissé des miettes
Pour mieux me retrouver
Mais petit, faut pas pousser
Des grenades explosent dans nos assiettes
A sept lieux, au débotté
Dispersé
J’étais trop dispersé
Dispersé
Dis, puis je encore me rassembler ?

Ça nous fait quoi
Grand tout de rien
D’être aussi pauvres
En nuits bleutées
Dauphins ?
Mourir pourrir
Banalités
Qu’un poumon, qu’un saphir
Soit condamné
A s’user
Et peut on croire
Aux fracassants
Soleils des histoires
D’antan
Où se soulèvent les enfants ?

J’étais parti en miettes
Pour mieux me retrouver
Mais petit, faut pas pousser
Des grenades explosent dans nos assiettes
A sept lieux, au débotté
Dispersés
On est trop dispersés
Dispersés
Trop dispersés




Dispersés
Dis, peut-on encore se rassembler ?

Overall Meaning

In Dispersés, Eiffel explores the feeling of being scattered and unable to gather oneself back together. The opening lines, "Je me tapis/Sous des volants," which roughly translates to "I hide/Under ruffles," sets the stage for the idea of hiding and possibly feeling overwhelmed. The next line, "Je me dérobe/Et laisse des mystères," reveals the singer withdrawing and leaving behind enigmatic clues. The mention of "nos nez s'allongent," which literally translates to "our noses grow longer," could refer to Pinocchio's nose or the idea of lying, emphasizing that the singer may feel weighed down by secrets and falsehoods.


As the song progresses, the chorus repeats the idea of being "dispersé," or scattered. The singer admits to leaving breadcrumbs in order to find their way back, but it seems they've gone too far and are unable to retrace their steps. The imagery of grenades exploding in their plates adds a sense of danger and chaos to an already unsettling feeling.


The second half of the song dives into existential questions and ponderings about the state of the world. Eiffel poses the question, "Ça nous fait quoi/Grand tout de rien," meaning "What does it do for us/to be a big nothing." The singer muses on the fragility of life, using the metaphor of lungs and sapphires being condemned to wear down.


The repetition of "Dispersés" throughout the song emphasizes the feeling of being pulled in too many directions and unable to focus. The final line, "Dis, peut-on encore se rassembler?" or "Can we still gather ourselves together?" leaves the listener with a sense of uncertainty and potential hopelessness.


Overall, Dispersés is a poignant exploration of feeling lost and overwhelmed, both on an individual and societal level.


Line by Line Meaning

Je me tapis
I hide myself


Sous des volants
Beneath the frills


Je me dérobe
I vanish


Et laisse des mystères
And leave mysteries


T’as vu ?
Have you seen?


Joliment songe
Lovely dream


Au bien séant
Fitting well


Tout est seyant
Everything suits


Nos nez s’allongent
Our noses grow longer


L’hallu
The hallucination


Armées d’élites
Elite armies


Amours bâclés
Hastily-made loves


Tout se délite
Everything disintegrates


C’est que le monde aime
It's what the world loves


Etre émotionné
To be emotional


J’avais laissé des miettes
I had left breadcrumbs


Pour mieux me retrouver
To find myself better


Mais petit, faut pas pousser
But come on, don't push it


Des grenades explosent dans nos assiettes
Grenades explode on our plates


A sept lieux, au débotté
Seven leagues away, unexpectedly


Dispersé
Dispersed


J’étais trop dispersé
I was too scattered


Dis, puis je encore me rassembler ?
Say, can I still gather myself?


Ça nous fait quoi
What does it do to us


Grand tout de rien
Big deal, nothing


D’être aussi pauvres
To be so poor


En nuits bleutées
In blue nights


Dauphins ?
Dolphins?


Mourir pourrir
To die and rot


Banalités
Trivialities


Qu’un poumon, qu’un saphir
Whether a lung or a sapphire


Soit condamné
Is condemned


A s’user
To wear out


Et peut on croire
And can we believe


Aux fracassants
In the smashing


Soleils des histoires
Suns of the stories


D’antan
Of yesteryear


Où se soulèvent les enfants ?
Where children rise up?


On est trop dispersés
We are too dispersed


Trop dispersés
Too scattered


Dis peut-on encore se rassembler ?
Say, can we still gather ourselves?




Contributed by Eva A. Suggest a correction in the comments below.
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