Carte orange
Les Tit' Nassels Lyrics
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Le bruit de la machine n'a pas à couvrir les mots, Ils serrent les canines, ils dissimulent leurs crocs...
Moi j'suis posée sur mon strapontin, Paris je viens ! Quand sur moi s'agglutinent quelques bambins, l'ai de rien.
Ca y est il faut sortir la sonnerie vire le silence, Un son bien à vomir, qui toujours règle la danse...
Moi j'vais à contre-sens, j'ai pas bien compris, Que dans ce genre de danse, pas l'droit à la fantaisie...
Mais le soleil perce le béton, l'accordéon, Vient hanter les couloirs de ces bas-fonds, allez une p'tite chanson !
Le musicien sourit, mais c'est pas gratuit ! Un p'tit sou mon ami pour ensoleiller ta vie...
(C'est ça Paris ?)
The Les Tit' Nassels's song Carte orange is about the experiences of a person on a daily commute in Paris. The lyrics describe the monotony and bleakness of morning rush hour in Paris, with the commuters donning blank expressions while reading the newspaper. The noise of the subway train and the obligation to conform and follow a certain dance-like walk in the crowded spaces are also highlighted. However, even in the midst of all this, the sun breaks through the concrete and an accordion player appears to offer a little bit of light to the dreary setting.
The lyrics bring attention to the feeling of being a small fish in a big pond, with the individual's experiences and emotions being drowned out by the overwhelming nature of the city. The overarching theme seems to be the need for human connection and the little moments of beauty that can be found even in the most mundane moments.
Line by Line Meaning
ls ont la mine grise du matin, les parisiens, Ils lisent dans le métro leur quotidien, l'air de rien.
The Parisians have a tired morning look as they read their daily newspaper in the subway, trying to appear nonchalant.
Le bruit de la machine n'a pas à couvrir les mots, Ils serrent les canines, ils dissimulent leurs crocs...
The noise of the machines should not cover up their words, so they grit their teeth and hide their aggression.
Moi j'suis posée sur mon strapontin, Paris je viens ! Quand sur moi s'agglutinent quelques bambins, l'ai de rien.
Sitting calmly on my train seat, I ponder about how I came to Paris, and don't mind when a few children join me.
Ca y est il faut sortir la sonnerie vire le silence, Un son bien à vomir, qui toujours règle la danse...
The sound of the train signal forces everyone to break the silence with an unpleasant and obnoxious noise, starting the dance routine.
Me voilà dans le flot, et au galop, les parigots, Font claquer leurs talons, comme des marteaux, l'air idiot.
I find myself caught in the crowd as the Parisians prance around in their heels, resembling a group of mindless hammers.
Moi j'vais à contre-sens, j'ai pas bien compris, Que dans ce genre de danse, pas l'droit à la fantaisie...
I go against the flow, not fully understanding that in this dance, there's no room for fancy moves.
Mais le soleil perce le béton, l'accordéon, Vient hanter les couloirs de ces bas-fonds, allez une p'tite chanson !
The sun breaks through the concrete buildings as the accordion drifts through these underground tunnels, inviting a little musical performance.
Le musicien sourit, mais c'est pas gratuit ! Un p'tit sou mon ami pour ensoleiller ta vie...
The musician smiles, but his performance isn't free! He asks for a small contribution to brighten up your day.
(C'est ça Paris ?)
(Is this what Paris is all about?)
Contributed by Layla W. Suggest a correction in the comments below.