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She Wanted to Be Called Venice

She wanted
Me to call her Venice
You see me
Striped vest, doting voice
As a gondolier
 
Paddling for a cherry
For a kiss
She wanted to be called Venice
What a funny idea
 
What a funny idea
What a funny idea
 
I was under the command of her exquisite voice
You see me
Submissive heart and enamored soul
As a mariner
 
If women want to be called Venice
Take them seriously
Don't try to find anyone better
 
Don't try to find anyone better
Don't try to find anyone better
 
Then she ran away
Without her suitcase
Towards the mysterious fog
Sometimes she would dream of ice floes
Then prefer a raging Tarzan
As for me, with my tied up heart in my shirt
I always give what I can
 
She wanted me to call her Venice
Soaking eyes
Broken back, spare rib
On a running board
 
Tilting like the tower of Pisa
For a kiss
She wanted to be called Venice
What a funny idea
 

When she calls her mother

When she calls her mother
it usually lasts a while1.
It's worse than with a best friend.
Just see them chatting.
It's quite a moment :
'Hi mummy dear,
don't worry, I don't drink too much
and I keep an eye out in the subway.'
 
When she calls her mother,
it's always the same table of contents2:
the job, the little troubles,
the 'and by the way, didn't I tell you...'.
It can last for hours.
Even if a bomb went off
I'm not sure they would hang up:
'Seen any movie lately?'
 
When she calls her mother
When she calls her mother
When she calls her mother
When she calls her mother
 
When she calls her mother
and they start gossiping,
I eavesdrop a bit.
So what? We (guys) all do the same.
It's often juicy,
your average girl talk.
It's hard to figure
what a fuss they make.
 
When she calls her mother
I become secondary.
But with such a smile,
what could you say to her?
New denims on her butt,
chick talk.
But since it's always out of tenderness,
I play the spy to hear what they say.
 
When she calls her mother
When she calls her mother
and it goes on all over again
when it's her mother who calls.
 
When she calls her mother,
I watch my back,
in case I hung out with friends
until morning.
A washing-up not done
can get me into trouble too.
And since I feel bashful
I call my mother.
 
When she calls her mother
it usually lasts a while.
Long enough for me to run a marathon
or write five songs.
By the way I have to end
this little piece of metatheatre3,
and I'd better hurry,
I think she's about to hang up.
 

• 1. lit. 'it's rarely ephemeral'
• 2. sounds a bit unusual in French too
• 3. don't see any metatheatre there, but anyway...

Do whatever you want with my translations. I'm not rich enough to sue you anyway.