La Mer Est Calme invites us to sit on the shoreline of a love story that appears tranquil on the surface, yet hides a brewing storm beneath. Ben Mazué turns the calm sea into a metaphor for that suspenseful pause before a relationship’s first crack: Who will yawn first? Who will sulk? Who will throw in the towel and jump ship? One by one, he fires off playful—but telling—questions that expose our secret fears when we sense something precious might break. Each wave of lyrics hints at possible betrayals, forgotten promises, and the quiet plotting that can happen even when two people still call themselves amoureux.
While the melody rolls gently, the words forecast towering swells of jealousy, blame, and regret. It is a song about anticipation—watching the horizon for “remous” (ripples), “grandes lames” (huge waves), and “hallebardes” (crashing blows) that could wash everything away. Yet within that tension lies a bittersweet honesty: acknowledging that love is thrilling precisely because it is fragile. By the final chorus, Mazué leaves us staring at the calm sea ourselves, wondering whether we will weather the storm or be swept out to new waters.