Francis Cabrel (born 23 November 1953 in Agen, France) is a French singer-s… Read Full Bio ↴Francis Cabrel (born 23 November 1953 in Agen, France) is a French singer-songwriter and guitarist. Inspired heavily by Bob Dylan, he produced a significant number of albums falling mostly within the realm of folk, with occasional forays into blues or country. Several of his songs, such as "L'encre de tes yeux" and "Petite Marie" have become enduring favourites in French music. His first hit was called "Je l'aime a mourir. Others, such as "C'etait l'hiver", about the suicide of a young girl, have since been covered by other artists such as Canadian Isabelle Boulay.

Lisa
Francis Cabrel Lyrics

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Lisa nos barques en papier
Dans le grand bassin bleu
Tes premiers pinceaux de noir pour les yeux
Tu disais souvent « on vivra ailleurs »
Je courais me cacher
Quand je voulais que tu pleures
Quelques hommes jouent encore
Comme des enfants cruels

Ce soir Odessa s'endort sous le ciel

Lisa c'est partout les mêmes
Les fumées des avions
T'es juste du mauvais côté de l'horizon

Les seuls trains qui partent
Sont des trains de banlieue
T'as beau tendre tes mains
Y'a tout ce vide au milieu
Et tes chansons retombent
Aux pianos des hôtels
Pendant qu'Odessa s'endort sous le ciel

Il ne reste que le nom que tu portes
J'imagine le son de ta voix
Un beau jour c'est certain tu t'envoleras

Lisa des soldats surveillent
les camions de courrier
Tes mots en reviennent tout déshabillés

Quelques hommes jouent encore
Comme des enfants cruels
Sans doute Odessa s'endort sous le ciel

Il me reste le nom que tu portes
J'imagine le son de ta voix
Un beau jour c'est certain tu t'envoleras

Lisa, accrochée aux ailes
Des oiseaux dissidents

Overall Meaning

In Francis Cabrel's song Lisa, the singer reminisces about his childhood with a girl named Lisa. They used to play with paper boats in a big blue basin and Lisa would paint her eyes black. She often talked about leaving and starting anew, but the singer didn't want her to cry so he would hide from her. However, now Lisa is just like everyone else, stuck on the wrong side of the horizon. She sends letters that come back empty and her songs only reach the pianos in hotel lobbies. Meanwhile, he imagines her voice and dreams of the day she will fly away on the wings of dissident birds.

Line by Line Meaning

Lisa nos barques en papier
Lisa, we used to play together with our paper boats as kids

Dans le grand bassin bleu
We would float them in the big blue basin

Tes premiers pinceaux de noir pour les yeux
You were just learning to put on makeup and used black eye-liner

Tu disais souvent « on vivra ailleurs »
You used to say that we will live somewhere else when we grow up

Je courais me cacher Quand je voulais que tu pleures
Sometimes I wanted to make you cry, but I would run away and hide

Quelques hommes jouent encore Comme des enfants cruels Ce soir Odessa s'endort sous le ciel
Some men are still playing games like cruel children while the city of Odessa sleeps under the sky

Lisa c'est partout les mêmes Les fumées des avions T'es juste du mauvais côté de l'horizon
Lisa, things are the same everywhere, with airplane smoke and you're just on the wrong side of the horizon

Les seuls trains qui partent Sont des trains de banlieue T'as beau tendre tes mains Y'a tout ce vide au milieu
Only suburban trains leave and there is emptiness everywhere, no matter how hard you reach out your hands

Et tes chansons retombent Aux pianos des hôtels Pendant qu'Odessa s'endort sous le ciel
Your music would play on hotel pianos while Odessa sleeps

Il ne reste que le nom que tu portes J'imagine le son de ta voix Un beau jour c'est certain tu t'envoleras
Your name lingers, and I can hear your voice. Someday you will surely fly away

Lisa des soldats surveillent les camions de courrier Tes mots en reviennent tout déshabillés
Lisa, soldiers are monitoring the mail trucks and your letters come back censored

Il me reste le nom que tu portes J'imagine le son de ta voix Un beau jour c'est certain tu t'envoleras
Your name is all that remains, and I can still hear your voice. One day, you'll surely fly away

Lisa, accrochée aux ailes Des oiseaux dissidents
Lisa, hanging onto the wings of restless birds

Lyrics © O/B/O APRA AMCOS
Written by: Francis Cabrel

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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