I'm going to play a song called The End of the World by The Beatles and I'm going to sing it to you in French. So, here we go. I'm going to play it in French. I'm going to sing it in French. I'm going to sing it in French. I'm going to sing it in French. Look at the strange emotion that fascinates me as much as it disturbs me. I'm shivering, stabbed by the skin. It's like a knife in the hand. The wound crosses my heart and I have joy in the pain. I'm fed up with this poison, to lose my mind. It's the good that hurts when you love quite normally. Your love takes the pleasure. It's so good to suffer this beautiful charm. Give it to me! It's the good that hurts when you love quite normally. Your mother, the real delight, goes through the torture. Put down your weapons. Give it to me! I feel violent impulses. I feel like I'm sliding back to the bottom. If I ignore where this fear comes from. I love to have it in the mud. At the beginning, crazy ideas. Suddenly, my desires fly away. Desire becomes my prison before I lose my mind. It's the good that hurts when you love quite normally. Your love takes the pleasure. It's so good to suffer this beautiful charm. Give it to me! It's the good that hurts when you love quite normally. Your mother, the real delight, goes through the torture. Put down your weapons. Give it to me! I feel violent impulses. I feel like I'm sliding back to the bottom. It's the good that hurts when you love quite normally. Your love takes the pleasure. It's so good to suffer this beautiful charm. Give it to me! It's the good that hurts when you love quite normally. Your mother, the real delight, goes through the torture. Put down your weapons. Give it to me!