After self-releasing her first three records and gaining popularity in New York City's independent music scenes, particularly the anti-folk scene centered on New York City's East Village, Spektor signed with Sire Records in 2004 and began achieving greater mainstream recognition. After giving her third album a major label re-release, Sire released Spektor's fourth album, Begin to Hope, which achieved a Gold certification by the RIAA. Her following two albums, Far and What We Saw from the Cheap Seats, each debuted at number 3 on the Billboard 200. 2016's Remember Us to Life peaked at 23 on the Billboard 200.
Mayor Bill de Blasio proclaimed June 11, 2019, Regina Spektor Day in New York City. Spektor was also inducted into the Bronx Walk of Fame on May 18, 2019, by Borough President Rubén Díaz Jr.
Après Moi
Regina Spektor Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
You can't break that which isn't yours
I (uh) must go on standing
I'm not my own, it's not my choice
Be afraid of the lame, they'll inherit your legs
Be afraid of the old, they'll inherit your souls
Be afraid of the cold, they'll inherit your blood
I (uh) must go on standing
You can't break that which isn't yours
I (uh) must go on standing
I'm not my own, it's not my choice
Be afraid of the lame, they'll inherit your legs
Be afraid of the old, they'll inherit your souls
Be afraid of the cold, they'll inherit your blood
Apres moi le deluge, after me comes the flood
Apres moi le deluge, after me comes the flood
Fevrale dostat chernil I plakat
Pisat O Fevrale navsnryd
Poka grohochushaya slyakot
Vesnoyu charnoyu gorit
Vesnoyu charnoyu gorit
Be afraid of the lame, they'll inherit your legs
Be afraid of the old, they'll inherit your souls
Be afraid of the cold, they'll inherit your blood
Apres moi le deluge, after me comes the flood
I (uh) must go on standing
You can't break that which isn't yours
I (are) must go on standing
I'm not my own, it's not my choice
I (uh) must go on stan-stan-ding-dong
You can't, can't break that, that
Which isn't, isn't yours, yours
Which isn't, isn't yours, yours
I'm not, not my own, own
It's not, not my choice, choice
Regina Spektor's Après Moi is a complex song with a haunting melody and deep lyrics. The song appears to be an ode to resilience in the face of adversity. The opening lines, "I (uh) must go on standing/ You can't break that which isn't yours," indicate the determination of the singer to persevere in the face of challenges even though they feel like they are not in control of their own fate.
However, the lines that follow reveal a much deeper and darker message. The repetition of the phrase "be afraid" is particularly chilling, warning of the consequences of complacency and the inevitability of the passing of time, bringing with it its own challenges. The lines "after me comes the flood" feels particularly ominous, indicating that after the singer's time is up, there will be chaos and destruction. The song seems to be warning listeners to be prepared for what's coming, to stand on guard and not be complacent.
The Russian lines in the middle of the song add another layer of depth and complexity. The lyrics, when translated, reflect on the power of writing and how it can preserve memories and emotions even after fleeting moments have passed. The following line, "While the rumbling slush rushes ahead" paints a picture of the speed and urgency of life, suggesting that we must take control of our own lives and preserve them through writing or other forms of creation.
Overall, the song has a dark but hopeful message about the inevitability of change and the importance of attitude and resilience in the face of these changes.
Line by Line Meaning
I (uh) must go on standing
I have no choice but to continue standing and facing whatever comes next
You can't break that which isn't yours
You are powerless to destroy something that does not belong to you
I (uh) must go on standing
I have to keep persevering regardless of what happens
I'm not my own, it's not my choice
I do not belong to myself, my fate is not my own to decide
Be afraid of the lame, they'll inherit your legs
Beware of those who appear weak or vulnerable, as they may take what is rightfully yours
Be afraid of the old, they'll inherit your souls
Fear those who are wise and experienced, as they may take your innermost essence and identity
Be afraid of the cold, they'll inherit your blood
Be wary of those who are indifferent or unfeeling, as they may take what gives you life and vitality
Apres moi le deluge, after me comes the flood
After I'm gone, disaster will follow in my wake
Fevrale dostat chernil I plakat
February will bring ink and tears
Pisat O Fevrale navsnryd
Writing about February is useless
Poka grohochushaya slyakot
As long as the noisy slush
Vesnoyu charnoyu gorit
Burns with the black spring
I (are) must go on standing
I have to keep on standing up and fighting for what I believe in
I'm not, not my own, own
I have no true autonomy or control over my own destiny
It's not, not my choice, choice
I am not free to choose my own path in life
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Written by: REGINA SPEKTOR
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
@sofiadorrell99
The Russian verse is the first stanza from a poem by Boris Pasternak, February:
February. Get ink, shed tears.
Write of it, sob your heart out, sing,
While torrential slush that roars
Burns in the blackness of the spring.
Go hire a buggy. For six grivnas,
Race through the noice of bells and wheels
To where the ink and all you grieving
Are muffled when the rainshower falls.
To where, like pears burnt black as charcoal,
A myriad rooks, plucked from the trees,
Fall down into the puddles, hurl
Dry sadness deep into the eyes.
Below, the wet black earth shows through,
With sudden cries the wind is pitted,
The more haphazard, the more true
The poetry that sobs its heart out.
Alternatively:
February. Get ink. Weep.
Write the heart out about it. Sing
Another song of February
While raucous slush burns black with spring.
Six grivnas for a buggy ride
Past booming bells, on screaming gears,
Out to a place where rain pours down
Louder than any ink or tears
Where like a flock of charcoal pears,
A thousand blackbirds, ripped awry
From trees to puddles, knock dry grief
Into the deep end of the eye.
A thaw patch blackens underfoot.
The wind is gutted with a scream.
True verses are the most haphazard,
Rhyming the heart out on a theme.
@annaeevadevdariani6948
I (uh) must go on standing
You can't break that which isn't yours
I (uh) must go on standing
I'm not my own, it's not my choice
Be afraid of the lame, they'll inherit your legs
Be afraid of the old, they'll inherit your souls
Be afraid of the cold, they'll inherit your blood
Apres moi le deluge, after me comes the flood
I (uh) must go on standing
You can't break that which isn't yours
I (uh) must go on standing
I'm not my own, it's not my choice
Be afraid of the lame, they'll inherit your legs
Be afraid of the old, they'll inherit your souls
Be afraid of the cold, they'll inherit your blood
Apres moi le deluge, after me comes the flood
Apres moi le deluge, after me comes the flood
Fevrale dostat chernil I plakat
Pisat O Fevrale navsnryd
Poka grohochushaya slyakot
Vesnoyu charnoyu gorit
Vesnoyu charnoyu gorit
Be afraid of the lame, they'll inherit your legs
Be afraid of the old, they'll inherit your souls
Be afraid of the cold, they'll inherit your blood
Apres moi le deluge, after me comes the flood
I (uh) must go on standing
You can't break that which isn't yours
I (are) must go on standing
I'm not my own, it's not my choice
I (uh) must go on stan-stan-ding-dong
You can't, can't break that, that
Which isn't, isn't yours, yours
Which isn't, isn't yours, yours
I'm not, not my own, own
It's not, not my choice, choice
@TheManinBlack9054
Another translation:
February. Get ink. Weep.
Write the heart out about it. Sing
Another song of February
While raucous slush burns black with spring.
Six grivnas* for a buggy ride
Past booming bells, on screaming gears,
Out to a place where rain pours down
Louder than any ink or tears
Where like a flock of charcoal pears,
A thousand blackbirds, ripped awry
From trees to puddles, knock dry grief
Into the deep end of the eye.
A thaw patch blackens underfoot.
The wind is gutted with a scream.
True verses are the most haphazard,
Rhyming the heart out on a theme.
@kalkalasch
The Russian is Pasternak poem --
Февраль. Достать чернил и плакать!..
Писать о феврале навзрыд,
Пока грохочущая слякоть
Весною черною горит.
roughly translates to:
February. [may as well] Get out the ink and cry!
[to] Write of February violently
While the roar of the snowy slush
Is burning with a dark autumn
@hoshisabi
I love how she does little vocal acrobatics with the lyrics. It took a while for me to realize what she was saying with the lyric "You can't break that which isn't yours." She combines the the ch from "which" with the "isn't" and it sounds almost like chisel. The allusions to the French and Bolshevik revolutions, the little snippets of Russian and French, the fun little plays with the singing, and the music... I love this song.
@watchrami
Nothing here has to do with bolshevism
@EclipseAgency
OMG chills down my spine when she starts singing in Russian. Even though I don't know what she is saying, the melodic quality of her voice so full of life
@yourmum2941
She says in Russian, from the poem "February":
"February, pick up your pen and weep,
Write poems about february in sobs and ink,
While thunder booming in the background
Is burning in the black of Spring"
@DimaPasechnik
it's a translation I won't approve :-) In particular "thunder booming" should rather be "muddy slush (loudly) splashing"...
@coriedrake8121
You can't just translate someone else's poem and do whatever the fuck you want with it, dog.
@nicolaualexandru653
did you know your mom could speak Russian?
@SCharlesDennicon
Yeah, when she starts singing in Russian, I was like okay, shit is getting real now.
@shawnfremgen6752
She plays her voice like an instrument.
@AnthonyMinsky
This song was the turning point for me. Heard Fidelity on some late night show and thought 'hey, what a cool little song'. Looked her up not expecting a big thing. Yowza!! She's a Beatle. Diverse. Simple. Complex. Catchy stuff, deep stuff. You can't put a genre on her. So refreshing. I can't stop praising her. I won't 😊