So this has been.my favorite song of OTEP's since it came out in 2004, and I always thought it was a song about a child's narrative of suffering in an abusive Christian home. But now that I am revisiting the lyrics, I am seeing something totally new.
This song could be gospel of John but from the perspective of Jesus.
Jesus was NOT having a good time up to and during the crucifixion. Everyone in the known world at the time looked to him with fear, admiration or disgust and he was constantly being asked questions. He spoke in "verses, prophesies and curses". He had made an enemy of the state, and believed the world was increasingly wicked and fallen from grace, or that he was in the "mouth of madness".
The spine of atlas is the structure that allows the titan to hold the world up. Jesus challenged the state and in doing so became a celebrated resistance figure. It also made him public enemy #1.
All of this happened simply because he was doing his thing, not because of any agenda he had or strategy.
And then he gets scourged (storm of thorns)
There are some plot holes here but I think it's an interesting interpretation.
La lune trop blême
Pose un diadème
Sur tes cheveux roux
La lune trop rousse
De gloire éclabousse
Ton jupon plein de trous
La lune trop pâle
Caresse l'opale
De tes yeux blasés
Princesse de la rue
Soit la bienvenue
Dans mon coeur blessé
The stairways up to la butte
Can make the wretched sigh
While windmill wings of the Moulin
Shelter you and I...
Petite mandigotte
Je sens ta menotte
Qui cherche ma main
Je sens ta poitrine
Et ta taille fine
J'oublie mon chagrin
Je sens sur tes lèvres
Une odeur de fièvre
De gosse mal nourrie
Et sous ta caresse
Je sens une ivresse
Qui m'anéantit
The stairways up to la butte
Can make the wretched sigh
While windmill wings of the Moulin
Shelter you and I...
Mais voilà qu'il flotte
La lune se crotte
La princesse aussi
La na na, na na, na na na, na na
Mon rêve évanoui
Les escaliers de la butte
Sont durs aux miséreux
Les ailes des moulins
Protègent les amoureux
Pose un diadème
Sur tes cheveux roux
La lune trop rousse
De gloire éclabousse
Ton jupon plein de trous
La lune trop pâle
Caresse l'opale
De tes yeux blasés
Princesse de la rue
Soit la bienvenue
Dans mon coeur blessé
The stairways up to la butte
Can make the wretched sigh
While windmill wings of the Moulin
Shelter you and I...
Petite mandigotte
Je sens ta menotte
Qui cherche ma main
Je sens ta poitrine
Et ta taille fine
J'oublie mon chagrin
Je sens sur tes lèvres
Une odeur de fièvre
De gosse mal nourrie
Et sous ta caresse
Je sens une ivresse
Qui m'anéantit
The stairways up to la butte
Can make the wretched sigh
While windmill wings of the Moulin
Shelter you and I...
Mais voilà qu'il flotte
La lune se crotte
La princesse aussi
La na na, na na, na na na, na na
Mon rêve évanoui
Les escaliers de la butte
Sont durs aux miséreux
Les ailes des moulins
Protègent les amoureux
Lyrics submitted by bertrande
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i jsut went to altavista.com and translated that. i hope its right...sorry if its not