Why am I uncomfortable in front of my own flag?
Why do I only see it waved abroad or by fascists?
It's been a long time since mine has been used, it's been gathering dust
Why does it bother me less when it's the flag of Argentina or Algeria?
I answer, "I am French," hesitantly
As if doubting it has become evident
No matter the side, no matter the camp, I was told to hate the President
I come from the country where it's always sunny
But also from the one where it always rains
Tell me who I am descended from, collaborators or resistors?

As many idiots as complexes, if I leave, you won't miss me
But on the other side of the world, first reflex, I look for French people
I love France like an aunt with whom I don't always agree
Who makes too little effort
But for whom I would cry all the tears of my body at her death
You see, how long it's been going on
Love or hate, it's not a small matter
The police, the one with dirty blunders, or the one on the front line at Hyper Casher?
To see elsewhere, to take a step back, to try to split the difference
When we go to India, we feel French, when we come back, we feel lucky

Often, we find the answers when we least expect them
Here, it's the one who lies the most sincerely
We only love each other after the World Cup or the attacks
Like these families who only gather at weddings or funerals
It feels strange but I love this country, the one that taxes me and covers me with taxes
The one that pays for me at the pharmacy, who took me to see the sea for free in summer camp
Its history, I know its horrors, but also its power

I'm not responsible for its mistakes, but I have to deal with its consequences
Too many promises, we get to know each other
But how many know each other, we need to progress
To be honest, I tend to write France with an S
We manufacture abroad if it's cheaper
And you, where would you go if war came?
We forget history, we rewrite history, peace at the foot of our border wall
My father lives in French, but dreams in Spanish, is that serious?
And he writes, "Long live France," with a spelling mistake

A lot of questions, few answers, I only have the lyrics of a song
How to be a committed artist when I don't really know what to think?
All I know for sure is that I'm French
That my grandparents were not
But what matters more is the arrival or the starting line?
And damn, I love France, for its history, for its castles
For its cathedrals, for its countryside, for its culture, for its mountains, yeah

But we eat each other like cannibals
All in the same boat, that's capital, more nuances, only radical
All hidden behind a barricade, everyone knows everything, huh?
Self-esteem is high, we blame the other
But the others, it's us

Apparently, there's a fire at the chapel, the country of Joan of Arc or Jamel
Apparently being bitter is our pride, we are the kings of freedom
In the grimoires, there are the Gauls, there are the knights
But in the kitchen, there's my grandmother and her erased Berber tattoos

Sometimes, I tell myself, "Come on, I'm leaving," I take a house by a lake
And then in the evening in front of the mirror, I reconsider leaving like a coward
Because I think I love this country despite everything
When I leave, I only think about my return
My France and its terroir are beautiful
Even if it's not me she sees in the mirror

I tell myself we could do it, break the glass ceiling
Instead of pointing out everyone's differences
Focus on what we have in common

Monopoly games, crying to Johnny's songs
Listening to the advice of the elderly, Brittany even when it rains
Taking lots of medication, aspirin and Doliprane
Omar Sy and Zidane, saying it was better before
"La vie en rose," by Édith Piaf, "Les perles de pluie," by Jacques Brel
Making sculptures with the red thing around Babybel
Aperitif time, not assuming the hangover
Complaining when it's too hot and complaining when it's too cold

France, I love it, I want more of it, French from head to toe
But all these mistakes that precede us, here's a beautiful poem for her
Sacred mix, sacred cocktail, some tell me it's deadly
But despite all the problems, I take you into my sacred mess

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