
Paul Van Haver, known by his stage name Stromae, is a Belgian singer, rapper, songwriter, and record producer born in 1985 in Brussels. His unique sound blends hip-hop and electronic music, captivating audiences across Europe and beyond. Stromae rose to international fame with his 2009 hit "Alors on danse," which topped charts in several countries.
His 2013 album Racine carrée was a major success, featuring hit singles like "Papaoutai" and "Formidable," and selling millions of copies. Renowned for his artistic music videos and thoughtful lyrics, Stromae stands out as a creative force in modern Francophone music. He continues to innovate while drawing on diverse influences, from hip-hop to electronic and world music.
This song is a rollercoaster of feelings about one person! Stromae and Pomme sing back and forth, describing a relationship that is completely contradictory. One moment they say, "Je t'aime" (I love you), and the next, "je te hais" (I hate you). They call this person both "la meilleure chose qui m'est arrivée" (the best thing that happened to me) and "la pire chose qui m'est arrivée" (the worst thing that happened to me). The whole song is built on these opposite ideas, like calling the person "la pire des bénédictions" (the worst of blessings) and "la plus belle des malédictions" (the most beautiful of curses).
So why stay in a relationship like that? The song gives a pretty cynical reason, quoting an old saying: "Plutôt qu'être seul, mieux vaut être mal accompagné" (Better to be badly accompanied than to be alone). It seems the fear of being lonely is stronger than the pain of the relationship. The title itself, "Ma Meilleure Ennemie" (My Best Enemy), says it all. This isn't just a lover; it's a rival you can't live without. The song ends with a final, perfect contradiction: "Je t'aime, je te quitte" (I love you, I'm leaving you).
In „Tous Les Mêmes“ schlüpft der belgische Künstler Stromae in die Rolle einer Frau, die von Männern die Nase voll hat. Der Song ist eine witzige und scharfe Abrechnung mit männlichen Klischees. Sie wirft ihrem Partner vor: „Vous les hommes êtes tous les mêmes / Macho mais cheap“ (Ihr Männer seid alle gleich / Macho, aber billig) und nennt Männer eine „Bande de mauviettes infidèles“ (Bande von untreuen Weicheiern). Es ist eine Liste von Beschwerden, die viele aus Streits kennen könnten.
Der Refrain ist besonders clever. Mit der Zeile „Rendez-vous au prochain règlement“ (Wir sehen uns bei der nächsten Auseinandersetzung) und dann „Rendez-vous sûrement aux prochaines règles“ (Wir sehen uns sicher bei der nächsten Periode) spielt Stromae mit der Doppeldeutigkeit des Wortes „règles“. Es bedeutet sowohl „Regeln“ als auch „Periode“ und deutet an, dass ihre Konflikte so regelmäßig wie ein Zyklus sind. Der Song zeigt aber auch die Komplexität der Situation: Als sie droht zu gehen, sagt sie ihm: „Mate une dernière fois mon derrière / Il est à côté de mes valises“ (Schau dir ein letztes Mal meinen Hintern an / Er ist neben meinen Koffern). Doch als er dem Ende der Beziehung zustimmt, gibt sie zu, dass sie ihn nur provozieren wollte. Es ist also nicht nur eine einseitige Anklage, sondern zeigt die Dynamik eines komplizierten Streits.
This is one of the biggest dance hits of the 2010s, but listen closely to the lyrics. Stromae isn't singing about a fun night out. Instead, he lists all the problems of modern life in a big, depressing chain reaction. He starts with school: "Qui dit étude dit travail" (Whoever says study says work), which leads to money, which leads to spending and debt. He does the same for love: "Qui dit amour dit les gosses / Dit toujours et dit divorce" (Whoever says love says kids / Says forever and says divorce). It's a bleak view of the world where every step forward just leads to another problem.
So what's the solution when you're overwhelmed? "Alors on sort pour oublier tous les problèmes" (So we go out to forget all the problems). The answer is simple: "Alors on danse" (So we dance). The song suggests that when things get so bad that "pire que ça ce serait la mort" (worse than this would be death), and the problems just keep coming, the only thing left to do is dance through the misery. It's a party song for people who have nothing left to celebrate.
Ever been to a party and not even noticed the people cleaning up or collecting empty glasses? Stromae sees them. "Santé" is French for "Cheers!", but this dance track isn't a toast to the people having fun. It's a celebration for everyone else.
He starts by shouting out the workers by name: "Rosa, Rosa, quand on fout l'bordel, tu nettoies" (Rosa, Rosa, when we make a mess, you clean it up) and "Arlette, arrête, toi, la fête, tu la passes aux toilettes" (Arlette, stop, you spend the party in the toilets). He even includes a verse of rude things customers say, like "Appelle-moi ton responsable et fais vite" (Call your manager and be quick about it). The song then expands to toast all kinds of people who can't celebrate, from pilots and nurses—the "champions des pires horaires" (champions of the worst hours)—to new parents and anyone with a broken heart. It's a powerful and catchy way to ask us to raise a glass for those who can't.
Belgian artist Stromae gives us a dance track with a surprisingly heavy heart. The title "Papaoutai" is a clever play on words, sounding like how a child would say "Papa, où t'es?" (Dad, where are you?). The song is a direct question from a child to his absent father, and it's a question Stromae himself asked. His own father was mostly absent and was killed during the Rwandan genocide when Stromae was a boy.
The song starts from this child's point of view, asking his mom where his dad is. She gives vague answers: "Elle dit qu'il n'est jamais très loin / Qu'il part très souvent travailler" (She says he's never very far / That he often leaves for work). But the chorus is just the child's simple, repeated question: "Où t'es? Papa où t'es?" (Where are you? Dad, where are you?). Later, the song's perspective widens to ask a much bigger question about fatherhood itself. Stromae points out that while "Tout le monde sait comment on fait des bébés" (Everyone knows how to make babies), "personne ne sait comment on fait des papas" (no one knows how to make dads). It's a sad thought wrapped in an amazing beat.
¡Prepárate para una montaña rusa de emociones con esta canción del artista belga Stromae y la cantante Pomme! La letra explora una relación increíblemente complicada y contradictoria. Desde el principio, nos lanzan directamente al conflicto con la línea "Je t'aime, je te hais" [Te amo, te odio]. No hay término medio aquí. La persona de la que cantan es descrita como "la meilleure chose qui m'est arrivée / Mais aussi la pire chose" [lo mejor que me ha pasado / pero también lo peor], una mezcla de bendición y maldición.
La canción utiliza dichos populares para justificar por qué se quedan en esta situación tan tóxica. Por ejemplo, citan la famosa idea de que "plutôt qu'être seul, mieux vaut être mal accompagné" [mejor mal acompañado que solo]. El título lo resume todo: "Ma Meilleure Ennemie" [Mi mejor enemiga]. Es una lucha constante entre el amor y el deseo de escapar, que culmina en la simple pero devastadora frase final: "Je t'aime, je te quitte" [Te amo, te dejo].
Belgian artist Stromae gives us a masterclass in clever, funny songwriting with "Tous Les Mêmes". The song is a huge list of complaints from a woman who is completely fed up with her man, and men in general. She calls them all the same: "Macho mais cheap" (Macho but cheap), "bande de mauviettes infidèles" (bunch of unfaithful wimps), and just so predictable. In the music video, Stromae plays both the man and the woman, switching between them to show both sides of the argument. It's a fantastic performance that makes the song's message even clearer.
The lyrics are full of brilliant, sharp lines. She threatens to leave, telling him to "Mate une dernière fois mon derrière / Il est à côté de mes valises" (Look at my butt one last time / It's next to my suitcases). But when he seems to agree with the breakup, she immediately backtracks, saying "Moi je le disais pour te faire réagir seulement" (I was only saying it to get a reaction from you). The chorus is a fantastic play on words, promising to see him at the "prochain règlement" (next settling of scores) and the "prochaines règles" (next period). It's a blunt, witty, and totally danceable song about relationship stereotypes.
¿Alguna vez le has contado tus planes a alguien y se ha burlado en tu cara? En "Riez", el maestro belga Stromae pone la lupa sobre los deseos humanos y nos invita a mirar cómo cambian nuestras metas según dónde empezamos.
La canción avanza a través de cuatro perspectivas distintas. Primero, un soñador descarado que quiere ganar un Grammy y casarse con una gran actriz ("Pourquoi rêver petit?" [¿Por qué soñar en pequeño?]). Luego, alguien que solo busca escapar de un apartamento pésimo para tener un todoterreno y un "salaire d'un cadre" (el sueldo de un ejecutivo de oficina). Después viene quien prefiere una vida sencilla con huerto, bicicleta y familia. Al final, la canción da un giro brutal con una voz que solo pide comer todos los días y tener sus documentos en regla ("tant qu'j'ai les papiers" [mientras tenga los papeles]). Stromae canta con ironía ese repetitivo "Riez, riez" [Rían, rían], dejando claro que lo que para unos es motivo de risa, para otros es simplemente sobrevivir.
Don't let the dance beat fool you! Belgian artist Stromae has a talent for making you move to songs with incredibly serious lyrics, and "L'enfer" is a perfect example. The title means "Hell," and he's talking about the personal hell of mental struggle. He starts by admitting a strange contradiction: he knows he's not the only person who feels lonely—in fact, there are "Beaucoup" [A lot] of people—but as he says, "malgré tout, je m'sens tout seul" [despite everything, I feel all alone]. It's that feeling of being isolated even when you're surrounded by people who might understand.
Then he gets incredibly direct about the darkness in his head, admitting, "J'ai parfois eu des pensées suicidaires / Et j'en suis peu fier" [I've sometimes had suicidal thoughts / And I'm not very proud of it]. He describes these thoughts as a way to silence the noise, the constant mental pain that makes him feel like he's living through hell. It's a powerful and honest look at depression, where even the act of thinking becomes the enemy. The song is a brave conversation about a topic many people find difficult to discuss, all set to music that makes you want to get on the dance floor.
Belgický umelec Stromae v tanečnom hite Tous Les Mêmes rozoberá večný boj medzi partnermi s poriadnou dávkou irónie a humoru. Text stavia do pozície ženy, ktorá má plné zuby mužských výhovoriek a stereotypov. Hneď v úvode spieva: "Vous les hommes êtes tous les mêmes / Macho mais cheap" (Vy muži ste všetci rovnakí / Macho, ale lacní). Vyčíta partnerovi neveru, zbabelosť a to, že o deťoch hovorí len vtedy, keď ich treba robiť, no pri výchove zrazu chýba: "Ah oui pour les faire, là, tu es présent / Mais pour les élever y aura des absents" (Aha, pri ich robení si prítomný / Ale pri ich výchove bude absencia).
Stromae sa v texte nebojí použiť hovorové výrazy a slovné hračky. V refréne spája partnerské vyrovnávanie účtov s menštruáciou: "Rendez-vous au prochain règlement / Rendez-vous sûrement aux prochaines règles" (Stretneme sa pri ďalšom vyúčtovaní / Stretneme sa určite pri ďalších krámoch). Využíva tu slangové slovo ragnagnas (menštruácia, ženské dni) aj narážku na svet módy s riadkom: "Il n'y a que Kate Moss qui est éternelle" (Len Kate Moss je večná), ktorým poukazuje na nereálne nároky na ženský vzhľad a starnutie. Skladba vtipne zachytáva hádku, kde padajú vyhrážky o odchode s kuframi pri dverách, no pritom ide o nekonečný cyklus, z ktorého niet úniku.
This song is one big, messy, public breakup. Stromae plays a character who has just been dumped and is now completely drunk, stumbling around and talking to anyone who will listen. The whole song is built on a clever French pun in the chorus: "Tu étais formidable, j'étais fort minable" (You were wonderful, I was very pathetic). He flips between remembering how great his relationship was and how pathetic he feels now that it's over.
He's not just sad, he's angry and wants to make everyone else miserable too. He hits on a woman, then immediately tells her he's been single since yesterday. He tells a random married guy that his wife will eventually leave him. He even gives a poor kid some brutally cynical life advice: "Si Papa trompe Maman / C'est parce que Maman vieillit" (If Dad cheats on Mom / It's because Mom is getting old). It's a hilarious and uncomfortable look at someone hitting rock bottom, feeling like everyone is just staring at him "comme un singe" (like a monkey).
La Solassitude is a witty mash-up of the French words for loneliness and weariness, and that clever fusion perfectly captures the song’s mood. Stromae slips into the shoes of Nicolas, a restless hero who swings like a pendulum between two equally uncomfortable states: single life that echoes with solitude, and long-term couple life that sinks into boredom. Over a catchy beat, Nicolas tries quick hookups, imagines eight-year relationships, and even chats with himself, only to discover that every option seems to come with its own brand of misery. The chorus sums it up in one breath: “Le célibat me fait souffrir de solitude / La vie de couple me fait souffrir de lassitude.”
Stromae turns this see-saw of emotions into an ironic confession about modern love. The lyrics highlight how routine can strangle passion, while endless freedom can leave us feeling empty. By the end, Nicolas is back at square one, re-introducing himself as if nothing has changed — a playful reminder that the search for balance between excitement and stability is never-ending. Underneath the danceable rhythm, the song is both a humorous and poignant study of human dissatisfaction, urging listeners to laugh at their own contradictions even as they feel the sting.
¿Alguna vez te has fijado en quién limpia los vasos mientras todos bailan de fiesta? El belga Stromae pone el foco exactamente ahí en este tema de pista de baile. El título, "Santé" (que significa "salud" al brindar), es un homenaje directo a los trabajadores invisibles: los que recogen el desastre de la pista («Rosa, Rosa, quand on fout l'bordel, tu nettoies» [Rosa, Rosa, cuando armamos lío, tú limpias]), los que atienden en el baño o los que recogen abrigos en el guardarropa. En vez de celebrar al que se divierte, Stromae pide un brindis por quienes están trabajando duro: «Et si on célébrait ceux qui n'célèbrent pas» [¿Y si celebráramos a los que no celebran?].
El tema también se burla sin piedad de los clientes arrogantes que tratan mal al personal con frases como «Elle est payée pour le faire» [Le pagan para hacer esto] o «Appelle-moi ton responsable» [Llama a tu encargado]. Más adelante, amplía el brindis a todos los que tienen horarios imposibles («champions des pires horaires»), desde camioneros, pilotos y enfermeras hasta panaderos, padres con bebés que no paran de llorar o personas con el corazón roto. Es un temazo bailable con un mensaje de respeto clarísimo: a quien no respeta al trabajador, que le den («tu pourras toujours te brosser», una expresión francesa que significa algo así como "te puedes ir olvidando").
Belgický umelec Stromae ťa v tanečnom hite Alors On Danse vôbec nešetrí. Namiesto bezstarostnej zábavy ti hneď na začiatku naservíruje drsný kolobeh dospelého života. Celý text funguje ako neúprosná reťazová reakcia: "Qui dit étude dit travail" (Kto povie štúdium, povie práca), z práce sú peniaze, z peňazí výdavky a z dlhov rovno exekútor ("Qui dit dette te dit huissier"). Stromae používa skvelý hovorový francúzsky slang – napríklad slová ako taf (práca), thunes (prachy) či les gosses (decká). Láska sa v jeho texte rýmuje so slovom rozvod ("Qui dit amour [...] dit divorce") a ranné vstávanie bolí kvôli hluku z predošlej noci.
Aké je teda jediné riešenie, keď sa problémy valia zo všetkých strán a ty si v koncoch? Vyraziť do klubu a všetko vytancovať: "Alors on sort pour oublier tous les problèmes / Alors on danse" (Tak ideme von, aby sme zabudli na všetky problémy / Tak tancujeme). Stromae presne pomenúva ten moment, keď už nevládzeš, kričíš, no telo ťa nepustí a ty tancuješ ďalej, lebo horšia než toto by bola už len smrť ("Car pire que ça ce serait la mort"). Je to temné, priame a extrémne chytľavé.
Belgian artist Stromae gives us a seriously cynical take on modern love in his dance track "Carmen". He kicks things off with a brilliant comparison: "L'amour est comme l'oiseau de twitter" (Love is like the Twitter bird). He says we're obsessed with it for about 48 hours, just like a trending topic, before we move on. The song describes how we connect, follow, get obsessed, and ultimately "on finit solo" (end up alone).
Stromae warns us to be careful of the superficial world of likes and followers, pointing out that online popularity isn't the same as real friendship. The chorus hammers this home, repeating that the way we "love" is actually the way we "consomme" (consume). He calls love a "enfant de la consommation" (child of consumerism), always demanding more choices. The whole thing gets darker and more desperate, ending with the incredibly blunt line: "Un jour tu verras on s'aimera / Mais avant on crèvera tous comme des rats" (One day you'll see we'll love each other / But before that, we'll all die like rats). It's a bleak but powerful message set to a beat you can't help but dance to.
Ever feel like everyone's dreams are completely different? Stromae explores this idea in "Riez" by presenting four different people, each with their own vision of a happy life. The song starts with someone who wants it all: to be a huge star, win a Grammy, marry a famous actress, and have police escorts. As he asks, "Pourquoi rêver petit?" (Why dream small?). It's a classic, over-the-top celebrity fantasy.
But then, the song shifts. The next person's dream is more down-to-earth: a nice house with a pool, a good salary, and a nice car. Then another person just wants a loving family, a small plot of land, and a simple life. The final voice has the most basic dream of all: to have enough to eat every day and the security of having their papers. Throughout the song, Stromae repeats the chorus, "Riez, riez" (Laugh, laugh), almost daring you to judge these different dreams. It's a clever way of looking at what people want out of life, from the biggest ambitions to the most fundamental needs.
Lass dich nicht vom tanzbaren Beat täuschen! Der belgische Künstler Stromae versteckt in diesem Dance-Track eine tiefgründige und persönliche Geschichte. Der Titel „Papaoutai“ ist ein Wortspiel mit der Frage eines Kindes: „Papa, où t'es?“ (Papa, wo bist du?). Das Lied erzählt aus der Sicht eines Jungen, der seinen abwesenden Vater sucht. Seine Mutter versucht, ihn zu beruhigen, mit Sätzen wie „Elle dit qu'il n'est jamais très loin / Qu'il part très souvent travailler“ (Sie sagt, er ist nie weit weg / Dass er oft zur Arbeit geht). Doch das Kind bleibt allein mit seiner Sehnsucht und der wiederholten, fast verzweifelten Frage: „Où t'es? Papa où t'es?“ (Wo bist du? Papa, wo bist du?).
Aber der Song geht noch weiter. Stromae stellt eine universelle Frage über Vaterschaft und Männlichkeit. Er fragt sich, ob zukünftige Väter „admirables“ (bewundernswert) oder „détestables“ (verabscheuungswürdig) sein werden. Die vielleicht stärkste Zeile des Liedes ist die knallharte Feststellung: „Tout le monde sait comment on fait des bébés / Mais personne ne sait comment on fait des papas“ (Jeder weiß, wie man Babys macht / Aber niemand weiß, wie man Väter macht). Das ist keine erfundene Geschichte; Stromaes eigener Vater war im Leben des Künstlers kaum präsent und wurde während des Völkermords in Ruanda getötet. Der Song ist also nicht nur eine allgemeine Frage, sondern auch die sehr persönliche Suche eines Sohnes nach Antworten.
Willkommen zu einem der größten Dance-Hits der 2010er Jahre! Stromae, ein Künstler aus Belgien, hat mit „Alors On Danse“ einen Song geschaffen, den du wahrscheinlich schon einmal gehört hast. Aber hast du jemals auf den Text geachtet? Die Musik lädt zum Tanzen ein, doch die Worte erzählen eine ganz andere Geschichte. Stromae beschreibt eine endlose Kette von Problemen, die das Leben mit sich bringt. Alles ist miteinander verbunden: „Qui dit étude dit travail“ (Wer Studium sagt, sagt Arbeit), Arbeit führt zu Geld, Geld zu Ausgaben und schließlich zu Schulden: „Qui dit dette te dit huissier“ (Wer Schulden sagt, sagt Gerichtsvollzieher). Sogar die Liebe ist nicht sicher und führt von „les gosses“ (den Kindern) zum „divorce“ (Scheidung).
Was also tun, wenn die Probleme einfach nicht aufhören? Wenn du denkst, es ist vorbei, „Et ben y en a encore“ (Nun, dann gibt es noch mehr). Stromaes Antwort ist einfach und direkt im Titel zu finden. Anstatt sich von den Sorgen erdrücken zu lassen, gibt es nur einen Ausweg: die Flucht in die Musik und den Tanz. Er singt: „Alors on sort pour oublier tous les problèmes“ (Also gehen wir aus, um alle Probleme zu vergessen). Die Lösung ist nicht, die Probleme zu lösen, sondern sie für einen Moment zu ignorieren und einfach zu tanzen. „Alors on danse“ (Also tanzen wir).
Stromae spends this song trying to finish one sentence, and the chorus never lets him. Every verse runs up to the same words — "Car ça me stresse que quelque chose vienne gâcher mon" (Because it stresses me out when something comes to ruin my) — and then the missing word arrives in English and repeats until it stops meaning anything.
The holiday it describes was bought rather than enjoyed. "J'ai bossé dur pour me le payer" (I worked hard to pay for it) is followed by "Là je sue car il faut en profiter" (There I'm sweating because you have to take advantage of it): the sun is an obligation with a receipt attached. He got up early for it, and what he gets is "Être ébloui et mon cancer de la peau" (Being dazzled and my skin cancer). Then he looks up — "Le ciel est bleu, ou plutôt gris bleu" (The sky is blue, or rather gray-blue) — and looks sideways at what is happening just off the postcard: "À cent mètres à peine, certains survivent" (Barely a hundred meters away, some survive).
¡Prepárate para una canción que te hará reír y pensar! En "Tous Les Mêmes", Stromae, el talentoso artista belga, nos presenta una conversación, o más bien un monólogo, desde la perspectiva de una mujer que está harta de los hombres. Ella los ve a todos "macho pero baratos" y "cobardes infieles", ¡qué fuerte! La canción está llena de sarcasmo y frustración, con líneas como "Z'avez de la chance qu'on vous aime / Dis-moi 'Merci'" [Tienen suerte de que los amemos / Dime 'Gracias'].
La protagonista está en un ciclo de discusiones y reconciliaciones, prometiendo que "Cette fois c'était la dernière" [Esta vez fue la última], pero luego se da cuenta de que él también quiere terminar, lo que la sorprende porque ella solo lo decía "pour te faire réagir seulement" [solo para hacerte reaccionar]. Es una mirada divertida y un poco triste a las dinámicas de pareja, donde las expectativas y la realidad chocan. ¡Y no te pierdas el coro pegadizo que repite "Tous les mêmes, tous les mêmes" [Todos los mismos, todos los mismos]!
¿Alguna vez has sentido que un problema lleva a otro y a otro, en una cadena sin fin? De eso va esta canción del artista belga Stromae. Con un ritmo que te obliga a moverte, la letra describe una serie de conexiones bastante deprimentes. Empieza con la idea de que los estudios llevan al trabajo, el trabajo al dinero, el dinero a los gastos, los gastos al crédito y el crédito a las deudas. La cosa se pone seria cuando dice: "Qui dit dette te dit huissier / Lui dit assis dans la merde" [Quien dice deuda, te dice agente judicial / Él te dice: sentado en la mierda]. ¡Qué directo!
Y no se detiene ahí. El amor lleva a los hijos y luego al divorcio. Los seres queridos te recuerdan el duelo. La crisis te hace pensar en el hambre en el mundo. Es un ciclo agotador. Pero, ¿cuál es la solución de Stromae a toda esta negatividad? El estribillo nos lo dice claramente: "Alors on sort pour oublier tous les problèmes / Alors on danse" [Así que salimos para olvidar todos los problemas / Así que bailamos]. Es un himno para todos los que han querido simplemente bailar y olvidarse de todo, aunque solo sea por una noche. La música es el escape.
A belga Stromae slágere, a Papaoutai egy igazi táncolható dal, de a pörgős elektronikus alap mögött egy meglepően komoly kérdés rejtőzik: hol van apa? A dal címe maga egy szójáték a francia « Papa où t'es ? » (Apa, hol vagy?) mondatból összevonva. A szövegben a gyerek az édesanyja válaszain gondolkodik, aki azzal nyugtatja: « Il part très souvent travailler » (Nagyon gyakran elmegy dolgozni) és « Travailler c'est bien » (Dolgozni jó). De a gyerek csak számolja az ujjait, és várja, hogy az apja előbukkanjon a rejtekhelyéről.
A dal második felében a szöveg még direktebbé válik: felnövünk, és rájövünk, hogy mindenkiből lehet apa, de senki sem tudja, hogyan kell jól csinálni. Stromae viccesen és nyersen odaszúrja: « Tout le monde sait comment on fait des bébés / Mais personne ne sait comment on fait des papas » (Mindenki tudja, hogyan csinálnak babákat / De senki sem tudja, hogyan csinálnak apukákat). Sokan azt hiszik, ezt az ujjukból kellene kiszopniuk (« Il faut le sucer de son pouce ou quoi ? »). Egyszerre pörget fel a ritmus és gondolkodtat el a szöveg!
Belgijski muzičar Stromae napravio je plesni hit koji zapravo govori o tome kako nas život konstantno zatrpava problemima. Nema ovde ulepšavanja. Tekst počinje kao neumoljivi niz uzroka i posledica: škola vodi do posla, posao do novca, a novac odmah ide na troškove i dugove. Stromae koristi pravi ulični francuski sleng – reč taf u stihu "Qui dit taf te dit les thunes" (Ko kaže posao, kaže lova) znači šljaka ili posao, dok je thunes žargon za pare. Čim pomisliš na ljubav, dolaze deca, večnost i odmah razvod ("Qui dit amour dit les gosses / Dit toujours et dit divorce"). Život te dovede do izvršitelja i dugova, glad vlada svetom, a ti se budiš umoran i još uvek gluv od prethodne noći.
I šta ti preostaje kada shvatiš da je jedina gora stvar od svega ovoga smrt ("Car pire que ça ce serait la mort")? Pa, izlazak i ples! Izlazimo da zaboravimo sve te muke ("Alors on sort pour oublier tous les problèmes"). Čak i kada pomisliš da si se izvukao, novi problemi se gomilaju jer "Quand y en a plus / Et ben y en a encore" (Kad nema više, e pa ima još). Muzika te udara direktno u stomak i glavu, tera te da vičeš i pevaš na sav glas, pa tek onda nastavljaš da plešeš dok sve ne prođe. Ples ovde nije znak sreće, već čist izduvni ventil.