Le banc des délaissés [English translation]

Friday, 4pm, in front of the cathedral

The bells are still ringing in the steeple

At the rendez-vous beneath the city walls

Each minute is an eternity

I hear your voice calling me

I look in the crowd without finding you

I'm waiting on the bench of the deserted

I'm waiting, all alone among the thousands

At every moment, I hope to find you

Next to me on the bench of the deserted

Friday, 5pm, people are in a hurry

Only the pigeons and the tourists are staying

The lovers meet on the banks under the bridge

They intertwine tightly and kiss goodbye

I hear your voice calling me

I look in the crowd without finding you

I'm waiting on the bench of the deserted

I'm waiting, all alone among the thousands

At every moment, I hope to find you

Next to me on the bench of the deserted

Friday, 7pm, the square is uncrowded

There's no more sun in the dales of this city

The shadows of the trees meet at my feet

Like the rising tide on the bench of the deserted

I hear your voice calling me

I look in the crowd without finding you

I'm waiting on the bench of the deserted

I'm waiting, all alone among the thousands

At every moment, I hope to find you

Next to me on the bench of the deserted

Of the deserted

Of the deserted

• Artist:Isabelle Boulay
• Album:États d'amour (1998)