Sex Shop
Serge Gainsbourg Lyrics


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Dis, petite salope, raconte-moi
Comment c'était entre ses bras.
Était-ce mieux qu'avec moi?

Ouais, petite vicieuse, dis-moi tout
Combien de fois, combien de coups
Quand même pas jusqu'au bout?
Non, petite salope, tu me mens.
Il ne t'en a pas fait autant
Que tu me le prétends

Mais, petite conne, ça ne fait rien.
Invente-moi encore ses mains
Sur ton ventre et tes seins.

Dis, petite salope, redis-moi
Comment c'était entre ses bras.
Était-ce mieux qu'avec moi?

Mais, petite garce, si tu m'as dit vrai,




Je ne te le pardonnerai,
Je te le jure, jamais.

Overall Meaning

The lyrics to Serge Gainsbourg's song "Sex Shop" are a conversation between two people, presumably a couple, discussing infidelity. The first person, referred to as "petite salope" (little slut) is being asked to recount her experience with someone else. The second person, "ouais, petite vicieuse" (yeah, little pervert), seems to be testing the first person's honesty, asking how many times and how far things went. When the first person claims the other person did things the second person deems unlikely, they accuse them of lying.


However, later in the song, the second person seems to switch strategies and asks the first person to invent more details about their experience with the other person, indicating a willingness to accept a certain level of dishonesty. The final line, "je ne te le pardonnerai, je te le jure, jamais" (I will never forgive you, I swear), suggests that the second person at least believes the first person may have cheated, and is very angry about it.


Overall, the song appears to be a somewhat disturbing exploration of jealousy, infidelity, and power dynamics within a relationship. The use of derogatory language and the focus on sexual details adds to an overall feeling of discomfort and unease.


Line by Line Meaning

Dis, petite salope, raconte-moi
Tell me, little slut


Comment c'était entre ses bras.
How was it in his arms?


Était-ce mieux qu'avec moi?
Was it better than with me?


Ouais, petite vicieuse, dis-moi tout
Yeah, little pervert, tell me everything


Combien de fois, combien de coups
How many times, how many hits?


Quand même pas jusqu'au bout?
Not even all the way?


Non, petite salope, tu me mens.
No, little slut, you're lying to me.


Il ne t'en a pas fait autant
He didn't do as much to you


Que tu me le prétends
As you're pretending to me


Mais, petite conne, ça ne fait rien.
But, little dumbass, it doesn't matter.


Invente-moi encore ses mains
Invent his hands on you again


Sur ton ventre et tes seins.
On your stomach and your breasts.


Dis, petite salope, redis-moi
Tell me again, little slut


Comment c'était entre ses bras.
How was it in his arms?


Était-ce mieux qu'avec moi?
Was it better than with me?


Mais, petite garce, si tu m'as dit vrai,
But, little bitch, if you told me the truth,


Je ne te le pardonnerai,
I won't forgive you


Je te le jure, jamais.
I swear it to you, never.




Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Written by: SERGE GAINSBOURG, JEAN CLAUDE VANNIER

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Elian


on Ford Mustang

We're swapping spits / We're snorting lines [double entendre] (On s' fait des "lines")
In a Ford Mustang
And then, "Bang"
We're banging in [triple entendre]
To the plane trees / And then, "Bang," we're getting high ("embrasser les platanes = planer" [ French] (=to get high)
"Mus" to the left
"Tang" to the right
And to the left, to the right

A windshield wiper
A pack of Kool
A badge with the inscription
"Keep Cool"
A bar of
Chocolate
A Coca-Cola

We're swapping spits / We're snorting lines
In a Ford Mustang
And then, "Bang"
We're banging in
To the plane trees
"Mus" to the left
"Tang" to the right
And to the left, to the right

A bottle
Of make-up fluid
A flashgun
A Browning (automatic pistol)
A phonograph
A volume
Of Edgar A. Poe
And a plain brass ZIPPO

We're swapping spits / We're snorting lines
In a Ford Mustang
And then, "Bang"
We're banging in
To the plane trees
"Mus" to the left
"Tang" to the right
And to the left, to the right

An edition
Of Superman
A nut from
Paco
Rabanne
A pic of
Marilyn
A tube of aspirin

We're swapping spits / We're snorting lines
In a Ford Mustang
And then, "Bang"
We're banging in
To the plane trees
"Mus" to the left
"Tang" to the right
And to the left, to the right