L'Assasymphonie Lyrics in English Florent Mothe

Below, I translated the lyrics of the song L'Assasymphonie by Florent Mothe from French to English.
This unbearable night of insomnia
Madness stalks me
I'm what I flee
I endure this cacophony
That saws my head
Stupefying harmony
She says you'll pay for your crimes
Whatever happens
We drag our chains, our pains
I devote my nights to the assasymphony
To requiems
Killing out of spite what I sow
I devote my nights to the assasymphony
And to blasphemies
I admit I curse everyone who loves
The enemy lurking in my mind
Celebrates my defeats
Relentlessly challenges me
I deny the fatal heresy
That gnaws at my being
I want to be reborn, reborn
I devote my nights to the assasymphony
To requiems
Killing out of spite what I sow
I devote my nights to the assasymphony
And to blasphemies
I admit I curse everyone who loves
The violins of my life weep
The violence of my desires
Crazy, symphony
Disconcerting concerto
I play without touching beauty
My talent rings false
I drown my boredom in melomania
I kill my phobias in disharmony
I devote my nights to the assasymphony
To requiems
Killing out of spite what I sow
I devote my nights to the assasymphony
And to blasphemies
I admit I curse everyone who loves
I devote my nights to the assasymphony
The assasymphony, the assasymphony
I admit I curse everyone who loves
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SONG MEANING

“L’Assasymphonie” is a wordplay that blends assassin and symphony, and the song feels exactly like that: a dramatic, nocturnal duel between dark thoughts and soaring melodies. Florent Mothe sings as a tortured artist who cannot sleep, stalked by a “killer symphony” in his mind. The lyrics paint a picture of insomnia, envy, and self-destruction: he resents lovers, fights the inner enemy that “fêtes his defeats”, and drowns his fears in chaotic music. Every line swings between elegance and violence, turning his mental turmoil into a grand, if unsettling, musical performance.

At its core, the song is about jealousy and obsession. Inspired by the character of Salieri in Mozart, l’Opéra Rock, Mothe’s narrator feels talentless next to the brilliance he longs for, so he vows his nights to requiems, curses, and blasphemy. The “assasymphonie” becomes both weapon and refuge, a place where he can kill his phobias with dissonant chords while admitting that his own harmony “sounds false.” The result is a flamboyant confession of envy wrapped in theatrical rock, perfect for anyone who loves a bit of operatic drama with their angst.

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