Deux bals dans la tête
Pensées Nocturnes Lyrics


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Rhabille-moi le p'tit
J'ai le vide à moitié plein
Tues-moi ce beau ver à jeun
Ce tord boyau qui fuit

J'ai la lune en plein jour
La pompe à merde qui sent le bal
Passé le coin du bois
Mes fils se touchent
J'lâche la rampe, marche en pompes
Funèbre, c'est ma routine !

Ça valse dans ma tête
Je vois la voie, ces toiles filantes
Visite les coulisses
Le trombone en valet de pisse !

J'ai le cor qui balance,
Les troncs qui pètent sous la lance
Le tube à la vertical
C'est l'eau à la cave, qui m'troue l'bal !

Des clous ! Que dalle ! Des nèfles ! Peau de balle !

J'ai été bercé sûrement trop près du mur
Sans tambour ni trompette - j'ai mal...

Toi qui meurs un peu comme moi,
Faisons fosse commune !





Je me pâme devant les bolets roses,
Mais si les vaches en avaient, on aurait plus de lait !

Overall Meaning

In the song "Deux bals dans la tête" by Pensées Nocturnes, the lyrics depict a surreal and chaotic inner world. The lyrics are filled with vivid and enigmatic imagery, creating a sense of disorientation and darkness.


The opening lines "Rhabille-moi le p'tit / J'ai le vide à moitié plein / Tues-moi ce beau ver à jeun / Ce tord boyau qui fuit" convey a feeling of emptiness and a desire to escape it. The singer pleads to be dressed, emphasizing the need for a sense of normalcy. The mention of a "beautiful worm" and a "leaky twisted gut" suggests a feeling of inner turmoil or self-destructive tendencies.


The following lines "J'ai la lune en plein jour / La pompe à merde qui sent le bal" continue with this theme of distorted reality. The singer feels as though they have the moon in broad daylight, implying a sense of confusion and unreality. The mention of a "pump of shit that smells like a ball" manifests an atmosphere of decay and unpleasantness.


As the song progresses, the lyrics become more fragmented and disconnected, portraying a lack of stability and a descent into darkness. The line "Passé le coin du bois / Mes fils se touchent" suggests a loss of control and a blurred boundary between reality and imagination. The mention of a funereal routine and the imagery of walking in mourning shoes accentuate a sense of despair and melancholy.


The repeated line "Ça valse dans ma tête" serves as a metaphor for the inner turmoil and chaotic thoughts experienced by the singer. The lyrics move between moments of poetic beauty and grotesque imagery, such as "La pompe à merde qui sent le bal" and "Le trombone en valet de pisse," creating a contrasting and jarring effect.


Line by Line Meaning

Rhabille-moi le p'tit
Dress me again, little one


J'ai le vide à moitié plein
I have the emptiness half full


Tues-moi ce beau ver à jeun
Kill me this beautiful sober worm


Ce tord boyau qui fuit
This twisted guts that leaks


J'ai la lune en plein jour
I have the moon in broad daylight


La pompe à merde qui sent le bal
The shit pump that smells like the ball


Passé le coin du bois
Past the corner of the woods


Mes fils se touchent
My threads are touching


J'lâche la rampe, marche en pompes
I let go of the railing, walk in shoes


Funèbre, c'est ma routine !
Funeral, that's my routine!


Ça valse dans ma tête
It waltzes in my head


Je vois la voie, ces toiles filantes
I see the way, these shooting stars


Visite les coulisses
Visit the backstage


Le trombone en valet de pisse !
The trombone as a piss servant!


J'ai le cor qui balance
I have the horn that swings


Les troncs qui pètent sous la lance
The trunks that burst under the lance


Le tube à la vertical
The tube vertically


C'est l'eau à la cave, qui m'troue l'bal !
It's the water in the cellar, that punctures me!


Des clous ! Que dalle ! Des nèfles ! Peau de balle !
Nails! Nothing! Nada! Nothing at all!


J'ai été bercé sûrement trop près du mur
I was surely rocked too close to the wall


Sans tambour ni trompette - j'ai mal...
Without drum or trumpet - I hurt...


Toi qui meurs un peu comme moi
You who die a little like me


Faisons fosse commune !
Let's have a common grave!


Je me pâme devant les bolets roses
I swoon in front of the pink boletus mushrooms


Mais si les vaches en avaient, on aurait plus de lait !
But if cows had them, we would have more milk!




Lyrics © O/B/O APRA AMCOS
Written by: Fabien Studer

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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