Marianne Dissard
  • Official Music Video - 'Je Ne Le Savais Pas' - Marianne Dissard - Album 'The Cat. Not Me' (2014)

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    Music Video for track 'Je Ne Le Savais Pas' from Marianne Dissard's Album 'The Cat. Not Me' (2014).

    Music composed by Sergio Mendoza, lyrics by Marianne Dissard.

    Musicians : Marianne Dissard, Sergio Mendoza, Thøger Lund, Marco Rosano, Gabriel Sullivan, Jon Villa, Lopez brothers, Gabrielle Pietrangelo.

    Recorded in Tucson, AZ at WaterWorks. Mixed at Hideaway in Minneapolis. Mastered at LOUD.

    Vinyl available from Vacilando 68 release on http://www.mariannedissard....

    Video editing by Marianne Dissard from four old movies. Thanks to JM Dissard, Astrid Serafini, Lachlan Turczan, Andrew Freiband, Alban Gily, Laetitia Bouchedor, Sébastien for the help.


    Moussaillon, matelot !
    Sous-payol, sous-payot !
    Moussaillon, matelot !
    Sous-payol, matelot !

    Les longs doigts de la gueuse
    me rentrent dans la gorge.
    Les vagues fouettent, claquent,
    se brisent sur le pont.
    Encordée au grand-mât,
    je tangue grise, cinglée de sel.
    Les algues agrippent et creusent,
    boursouflent ma carcasse.
    Hermite dans ma coque,
    en mal emmaillotée,
    je n'avance pas.
    Je n'avance pas.

    Les mots suintent de mes lèvres,
    y tournent dix fois, cent fois.
    Leur écho perce mort-né
    avant que de n'éclore.
    Tu ne m'entendras pas.
    C'est ainsi. Interdit.
    Je ne tends pas les bras.
    Je n'ouvre pas les jambes.
    Je ne me débats pas.
    Je ne respire pas.
    Je ne dis rien.
    Je ne dis rien.
    Je ne vis pas.
    Je ne vis pas.

    Le coeur mateloté,
    l'ennui me tient fortune.
    Les élements déchaînent
    à peine ma lumière.
    Je ne vis pas.
    Je ne vis pas.
    Je ne le savais pas.
    Je ne le savais pas.


    Seaboy, sailor!
    Lifers' scribe! Underling!
    Seaboy, sailor!
    Lifers' scribe! Underling!

    The long fingers of death
    force through my throat.
    Waves slash, slam,
    crash upon the ship deck.
    Ropped to the main mast,
    I sway grey, whipped by salt.
    Seaweeds grip and hollow-out
    my bloated carcass.
    Hermit in my shell,
    badly wrapped up,
    I am not moving forward.
    I am not moving forward.

    The words seep out of my mouth,
    having turned there ten times, a hundred.
    Their echo has died out, still-born
    before having bloomed.
    You will not hear me.
    That's how it is. Forbidden.
    I do not hold out my arms.
    I do not open my legs.
    I do not struggle.
    I do not breathe.
    I say nothing.
    I say nothing.
    I am not living.
    I am not living.

    Heart sailed-out,
    boredom stands me fortune.
    The elements unleash
    barely my light.
    I am not living
    I am not living.
    I didn't know it.
    I didn't know it. Show less
    Read more
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    Tucson chanteuse now homesteading in sunny Europe
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