On Attendra L'hiver Lyrics in English Julien Doré

Below, I translated the lyrics of the song On Attendra L'hiver by Julien Doré from French to English.
Since you're there when she lies down
Against their lumberjacks I lie down
We'll have time in the storm
The beauty was just passing through
Since my fingers still hold out
I vomit the hearts of all those calluses
They want me drilled for the fight
I just wanna fight with you
Since it's late and I'm writing fast
A teal blue aims at the glass
I empty a bottle of Chasse-Spleen
In one of your navy sweaters
Since we've said it all in blood
Cherbourg and Seville look like us
Since they talk to me in other tongues
Yours helped me understand
We'll wait for winter
To write each other that we miss one another
That yesterday was long
That waiting's long
We'll wait for winter
To write each other that we miss one another
That yesterday was long
That waiting's long
Since you don't wanna hear me anymore
With no Opinel to defend you
Hearing me and sing abandoned
A disembodied Chanel scent
Since you don't wanna understand anymore
That it takes years to take it all in
Without letting ourselves fly off
From the parade of happy pages
Forgive my heart
For opening our grave
To plant my heart in it
The thoughts of other blondes
We'll wait for winter
To write each other that we miss one another
That yesterday was long
That waiting's long
We'll wait for winter
To write each other that we miss one another
That yesterday was long
That waiting's long
You forgive my heart
We'll wait for winter
To write each other that we miss one another
That yesterday was long
That waiting's long
Lyrics and Translations Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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SONG MEANING

Picture two ex-lovers scribbling late-night letters they never send, wrapped in memories that feel as heavy as a winter coat. In "On Attendra L'hiver," French indie-pop poet Julien Doré paints a cinematic scene of half-empty wine bottles, borrowed navy pullovers, and words that never quite reach the other person. Every "Puisque" sets up a new reason why the narrator keeps circling back to the same ache: he still feels her perfume, still hears her language, still wants to fight for their love even if it means wrestling ghosts.

The chorus becomes a bittersweet promise: "We will wait for winter to write that we miss each other." Winter stands for honesty, the moment when distractions freeze and feelings finally surface. Until then, time stretches painfully long, and both lovers hide behind seasons, cities, and foreign tongues. Doré’s song is both a confession and a delay, capturing that universal tension between wanting to move on and craving one last heartfelt message.

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