“Que Veux-tu” feels like a colorful diary entry from someone who is hopelessly, almost comically, smitten with a stranger she sees every day. She fantasizes about his tall frame, his hypnotic voice and even the horses and ponies he owns, yet she never dares to roll down her car window and speak. Each missed glance makes her heart race, while his indifference freezes her. The lyrics bounce between playful admiration (“T’as des chevaux… Faisons des enfants!”) and frustrated paralysis (“Mon corps ne bouge plus quand j’entends ta voix”), painting a picture of day-dreamy obsession that is equal parts sweet and absurd.
At its core the song captures the thrill and agony of a silent crush: electric attraction, exaggerated fantasies and zero real-life progress. Yelle’s bubbly electro-pop sound amplifies the contrast between her flirtatious confidence in her head and her actual shyness on the street. It is a lighthearted reminder that sometimes the most dramatic romances happen entirely in our imagination — and that courage, not daydreams, is what turns a passing stranger into something more.