Sacré Bordel Lyrics in English Bigflo & Oli

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Below, I translated the lyrics of the song Sacré Bordel by Bigflo & Oli from French to English.

Why am I uncomfortable

In front of my own flag

Why do I see it waved

Only abroad

Or by fascists

It's been gathering dust for ages

Mine hasn't been much use to me

Why does it bother me less

When it's Argentina's

Or Algeria's

I answer I'm French

With a hesitant look

As if doubting it

Had become obvious

No matter the side

No matter the camp

I was told to hate the President

I come from the country

Where it's always sunny

But also from the one

Where it rains all the time

Tell me whose descendant I am

Collaborators or resistance fighters

As many a*sholes as complexes

If I leave

You won't miss me

But on the other side of the world

First reflex

I look to see if there are any French people

I love France like an aunt

I don't always agree with

Who makes too little effort

But for whom I'd cry

All the tears in my body

At her death

You see how long this has been going on

Love or hate

It's no small matter

The police, the one of dirty blunders

Or the one on the front line

At the Hyper Cacher

Look elsewhere, take a step back

Try to split the difference

When we go to India

We feel French

When we come back

We feel lucky

Often we find answers

When we're not expecting them

Here it's the one who'll lie

The most sincerely

We only love each other after

World Cups

Or terrorist attacks

Like those families who only reunite

At weddings

Or funerals

It feels weird

But I love this country

The one that taxes me

And smothers me with taxes

The one that pays for me

At the pharmacy

Who took me for free

To see the sea at summer camp

Its history

I know its horrors

But also its power

I'm not responsible for its mistakes

But I have to deal with its consequences

Too many promises

We get acquainted

But how many know each other

We need to progress

To be honest, me, France

I tend to write it with an s

We manufacture abroad

If it's cheaper

And you, where would you go if war came

Forget history, we rewrite history

Peace at the foot of the wall

Of our borders

My dad lives in French

But dreams in Spanish

Is it serious

And he writes Long live France

With a spelling mistake

Lots of questions

Few answers

I only have a song's lyrics

How to be a committed artist

When I don't really know

What to think

All that's sure

Is that I'm French

That my grandparents

Weren't

But what matters

Is more the arrival

Or the starting line

And f*ck how I love France

For its history

For its castles

For its cathedrals

For its countryside, for its culture

For its mountains, yeah

But we eat each other up

Like cannibals

All in the same boat

That's crucial

No more nuance, only radical

All hiding behind a barricade

Everybody knows everything, huh

Self-esteem is high

We blame the other

But the others are us

Seems the chapel's on fire

The land of Joan of Arc or Jamel

Apparently being bitter

Is our pride

That we're the kings of freedom

In the old tomes, there are the Gauls

There are the knights

But in the kitchen

There's my grandma

And her faded Berber tattoos

Sometimes I tell myself, come on, I bail

I take a house

By a lake

And then at night in front of the mirror

I think twice about leaving

Like a coward

Because I think

That I love this country despite everything

When I leave it

I only think about my return

She's beautiful

My France and her land

Even if it's not me

She sees in the mirror

I tell myself we could do it

Break the glass ceiling

Instead of pointing out

Everyone's differences

Focus on what we've

Got in common

Monopoly games

Crying to Johnny's songs

Listening to elders' advice

Brittany even if it rains

Taking lots of medicine

Aspirin and Doliprane

Omar Sy and Zidane

Saying it was better before

Édith Piaf's La vie en rose

The pearls of rain

Of Jacques Brel

Making sculptures

With the red thing

That goes around the Babybel

Aperitif time

Not owning up to the hangover

Grumbling when it's too hot

And grumbling when it's too cold

France, I love her

I still want her

French from head to toes

But all these mistakes

That precede us

Here's a nice poem for her

Holy mix, holy cocktail

Some tell me it's lethal

But despite all the problems

I take you

Into my holy mess

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bordel — mess / brothel

Bordel is a versatile French word that literally means "brothel" but is commonly used as a slang term for "mess" or "chaos." It's a strong, somewhat vulgar exclamation, similar to "bloody hell" in English.

In the song "Sacré Bordel," Bigflo & Oli use it in the title and throughout to describe the complex, often contradictory, and chaotic nature of France and their feelings towards it. The phrase "sacré bordel" (sacred mess) highlights this paradox, making it a memorable and culturally rich word to learn.

Sacré Bordel is Bigflo & Oli’s playful yet poignant love-letter to France – a place they adore, question, celebrate, and sometimes want to flee. Line after line, the rappers confess how the tricolor flag can make them squirm, how criticism of presidents feels like a national sport, and how pride only seems to surface during World Cup victories or moments of tragedy. The song zips through crowded Parisian avenues, rural villages, colonial shadows, and immigrant memories, asking who gets to claim “Frenchness” while admitting that the answer is as tangled as a bowl of spaghetti bolognese served with a baguette.

Ultimately, the track is a humorous, heartfelt reminder that identity is messy: you can complain about taxes, sing Brel in the shower, pack Doliprane for every trip, and still cry at the sight of French coastlines. Bigflo & Oli invite listeners to drop the blame game, focus on common ground, and embrace the “sacred mess” that makes France – and any homeland – worth loving. The result is an anthem for anyone who has ever felt both homesick and restless, proud and critical, rooted and uprooted all at once.

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Bigflo & Oli Sacré Bordel Lyrics