Les Oubliés Lyrics in English Gauvain Sers

Below, I translated the lyrics of the song Les Oubliés by Gauvain Sers from French to English.
In front of the green gate of his primary school
You spot him right away
Always the same look with his wool sweater
You know he's a teacher
He's crying over the closure coming next term
Of his last two classes
They say the reason's a lack of numbers
But we know what's really going on
We're the forgotten ones
The countryside, the drifters
The ones too far from Paris
The least of their worries
Wanting to lump the neighboring cantons together, 30 kids per room
That same philosophy that turns the country into a shopping mall
It wasn't enough that we've lost the grocery store
That the doctors took off
There's nobody left in town
Just banks gleaming on Main Street
We're the forgotten ones
The countryside, the drifters
The ones too far from Paris
The least of their worries
How sad the village is with all those roundabouts
That make heads spin
How sad the playground is without kids screaming
Balls at the windows
Even the little baker wonders what she'll do
With her sticky candies
Even the neighbor across the street is scared, it freaks her out
This silence in the school
We're the forgotten ones
The countryside, the drifters
The ones too far from Paris
The least of their worries
When in the upper spheres, ministry hallways
Students are just numbers
There are people on the ground, chalk all over their hands
Who get treated like underlings
Those suit-and-tie guys who shut the schools
Are very often the ones
Who'll never look, not from far or near
A child in the eyes
We're the forgotten ones
The countryside, the drifters
The ones too far from Paris
The least of their worries
We're third-string
Last slice of the cake
The countryside, the drifters
We're the forgotten ones
In front of the green gate of his primary school
There's the village teacher
A whole life of kids
Building them a tomorrow
He has to turn the page
We're the forgotten ones
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SONG MEANING

Imagine a tiny French village where the schoolyard’s green gate squeaks open every morning and the same wool-sweatered teacher welcomes the kids. In Les Oubliés (The Forgotten Ones), Gauvain Sers turns this simple scene into a moving portrait of rural France that feels left behind. With warm folk-pop melodies, he sings about closing classrooms, disappearing bakeries, silent playgrounds, and towns slowly hollowed out as services and jobs migrate toward Paris.

Yet the song is more than nostalgia. It is a gentle but pointed protest: Sers contrasts the chalk-dust reality of village life with the ministry offices where children become statistics. He gives a voice to the “campagne, les paumés, les trop loin de Paris” – the people who feel like the last slice of the national cake. By the final chorus, you will hear both the sadness and the quiet resilience of communities determined not to vanish from the map.

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