Ma Place Dans Le Trafic (Audio) Lyrics in English Francis Cabrel

Below, I translated the lyrics of the song Ma Place Dans Le Trafic (Audio) by Francis Cabrel from French to English.
Day's barely breaking
I'm already up
And I'm already trailing a tear on my cheeks
And the coffee's steaming
The elevator's waiting for me
And the engine I fire up
Help me slowly take
My place in the traffic
To take my place in the traffic
I'd like someone to come free me
But the one I've just picked
Gave me just enough to survive
And too little to run away
And I stay a prisoner of my promises
To all those carpet dealers
Who make me sleep on thick wool
And who force me at the end of each night
To take my place in the traffic
To take my place in the traffic
And when I wanna talk to nobody
When I've got the blues
I go pick up my phone
And I dial 12
I'm a mutant, a new man
I don't even own my desires
I perfume myself with carbon oxides
And I'm scared to know how I'll end up
I watch the rebels drift away
And I feel cramped in my skin
But I swore by the law of ladders
If someday I wanna die up high
I gotta take my place in the traffic
I gotta take my place in the traffic
And when I wanna talk to nobody
When I've got the blues
I go pick up my phone
And I dial 12
Because whatever I say
Whatever I do
The black cars have to pass
I'm a mutant, a new man
I don't even own my desires
I perfume myself with carbon oxides
And I'm scared to know how I'll end up
There're so many serious things
Happening in my streets
That already my kids know
They'll have to get used to it
To take my place in the traffic
To take my place in the traffic
My place in the traffic
My place in the traffic
Did you like these lyrics?
SONG MEANING

Picture the alarm ringing before sunrise, the smell of hot coffee, the elevator waiting, and an endless line of headlights already forming outside. In Ma Place Dans Le Trafic, French singer-songwriter Francis Cabrel walks us through this all-too-familiar morning ritual, only to reveal the quiet despair hiding beneath it. With every verse he paints the life of a modern commuter who feels like a “mutant” — someone molded by exhaust fumes, buzzed phones, and the pressure to earn just enough to survive. The chorus, prendre ma place dans le trafic (take my place in traffic), becomes a haunting reminder that society expects us to merge into the flow, keep our promises to “tapis merchants” (the people who sell us comfort), and swallow any urge to break free.

Cabrel’s lyrics read like an urban blues where the road is both literal and symbolic. He questions consumerism, environmental damage, and the way children quickly learn they will inherit the same gridlock. Even when he dreams of climbing “the law of the ladder,” he admits the first step is still the traffic jam. This song is a candid, almost cinematic look at everyday alienation — a gentle nudge to listeners to notice how easily we trade our desires for routine, and maybe to search for an off-ramp before it is too late.

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