February 12, 2019
Haute Couture
Il était un Louis Vuitton et je l’ai vu.
I loved him dearly and thought he wanted me too.
I could have had Gucci,
I could have had Versace,
But I wanted him, Louis.
I stabbed him the back
And he attacked
Not through words, but through silence.
And unfortunately I took offence.
Il était un Dolce et Gabbana
Et j'étais un Prada.
This love was not Haute Couture,
No, this love was a form of torture.
He was Chanel,
And I put us through Hell.
He was a Louis Vuitton, and I want him still.
Crying. and Screaming
It had done nothing.
I gave you my heart
And I was the one who tore it apart.
The dreams had vanished
And yet I still managed
To give you a broken heart.
You took it apart
You tore it apart
And I was left to mend it.
I still loved you
And I decided to show you
By gifting that Maneki Neko.
Our haute couture wasn’t dead
For it was just in my head.
But if this love was fake
Why does my heart still break?
Or is that also in my head?
Paris is burning
And I’m still hurting.
And all I want from those days
Is for someone to wave them away
And forget that they ever happened.
You were hurt
And I was burnt
Though the blind love I had
It was all I had.
I would take it back
In an act to forgive myself
Not him.
La vie est belle
But I’m in Hell
For he was my heaven.
Our dog days are gone
And I know that it’s wrong
To still be hung up over you.
I scream inside
No, I die inside
Whenever I see you.
I suppose I’m still not over
Those nights in October
When we would talk until we saw the morning star.
Why am I like this?
I want you to know this
That through the hate, there was love.
Opulence is the end,
We both had said
With Lana Del Rey, our queen.
I’m sorry I was so mean.
I didn’t mean to be.
I suppose you were my opulence.
I was supposed to be your jazz singer,
And you, my cult leader.
And you were to love me like your white lines.
And yet the twine was broken,
And we both hurted,
And our hearts never truly mended.
We both had headed
To the fate where we hated one another.
But I thank you for making me tougher.
You had taught me that
It hurts to be rejected,
And I’m sorry you were in firing range.
My dreams might be dead
Though you’re still in my head.
And I suppose it was all a reverie
Truly, never meant to be.
A fantasy,
More than a reality.
Translations
*Line 1: He was a Louis Vuitton and I wanted him
*Line 10: He was a Dolce and Gabbana
*Line 11: And I was a Prada
*Line 47: Life is beautiful
Il était un Louis Vuitton et je l’ai vu.
I loved him dearly and thought he wanted me too.
I could have had Gucci,
I could have had Versace,
But I wanted him, Louis.
I stabbed him the back
And he attacked
Not through words, but through silence.
And unfortunately I took offence.
Il était un Dolce et Gabbana
Et j'étais un Prada.
This love was not Haute Couture,
No, this love was a form of torture.
He was Chanel,
And I put us through Hell.
He was a Louis Vuitton, and I want him still.
Crying. and Screaming
It had done nothing.
I gave you my heart
And I was the one who tore it apart.
The dreams had vanished
And yet I still managed
To give you a broken heart.
You took it apart
You tore it apart
And I was left to mend it.
I still loved you
And I decided to show you
By gifting that Maneki Neko.
Our haute couture wasn’t dead
For it was just in my head.
But if this love was fake
Why does my heart still break?
Or is that also in my head?
Paris is burning
And I’m still hurting.
And all I want from those days
Is for someone to wave them away
And forget that they ever happened.
You were hurt
And I was burnt
Though the blind love I had
It was all I had.
I would take it back
In an act to forgive myself
Not him.
La vie est belle
But I’m in Hell
For he was my heaven.
Our dog days are gone
And I know that it’s wrong
To still be hung up over you.
I scream inside
No, I die inside
Whenever I see you.
I suppose I’m still not over
Those nights in October
When we would talk until we saw the morning star.
Why am I like this?
I want you to know this
That through the hate, there was love.
Opulence is the end,
We both had said
With Lana Del Rey, our queen.
I’m sorry I was so mean.
I didn’t mean to be.
I suppose you were my opulence.
I was supposed to be your jazz singer,
And you, my cult leader.
And you were to love me like your white lines.
And yet the twine was broken,
And we both hurted,
And our hearts never truly mended.
We both had headed
To the fate where we hated one another.
But I thank you for making me tougher.
You had taught me that
It hurts to be rejected,
And I’m sorry you were in firing range.
My dreams might be dead
Though you’re still in my head.
And I suppose it was all a reverie
Truly, never meant to be.
A fantasy,
More than a reality.
Translations
*Line 1: He was a Louis Vuitton and I wanted him
*Line 10: He was a Dolce and Gabbana
*Line 11: And I was a Prada
*Line 47: Life is beautiful