I think of you, my love
When you rummage through your closet
When you hesitate every day
Between jeans, a black dress
You ask yourself the question
"Will they bother me?"
And it's the kind of question
You shouldn't have to ask

I think of you, my love
When you walk down the street
You always pretend
To have heard nothing
And you quicken your pace
They whistle at you, they insult you
And they act tough
And they call themselves adults
And they call themselves adults

I think of you, my love
When you take the subway
With all these vultures
With animal instincts
I'd like to take your place
So you don't have to endure
These disgusting looks
That keep you from sleeping

I think of you, my love
But I'm quite powerless
Stupidity is always running
And it chills my blood
But what kind of world do we live in
For a woman to wonder
What she can wear or not
Without becoming a piece of meat
Without becoming a piece of meat

I'm sorry, my love
For these hours of dilemma
"Don't you think it's too short?"
"Should I wear it anyway?"
A woman's freedom
Is forever absent
As soon as she forbids herself
To be an elegant woman

I'm sorry, my love
For this slew of troubles
It almost always hides
A serious lack of balls
It could be their sister
Or their daughter on this road
When you insult a woman
You insult them all
You insult them all

I'm sorry, my love
For being of the same species
As these barnyard roosters
As these dirty thick brutes
But a woman's tenderness
Will always be more beautiful
Than the infamous stupidity
Of men without brains

I'm sorry, my love
I'm sorry for all those
Those who are scared at the turn
Of a dark alley
A woman's freedom
Whether she's brunette, whether she's blonde
A woman's freedom
Is worth all the gold in the world

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