Home / Ils sont partis avant le fromage

The uncle leaves his written speech and says too much. His sister gets up and follows the microphone cable.
Song illustration · AI-assisted artwork

Songs · 06 / 12

André prend le micro

The uncle leaves his written speech and says too much. His sister gets up and follows the microphone cable.

Songs
06 / 12
Running time
3:09
Language
French

Spotify · André prend le micro

Listen on Spotify

Lyrics

On my sheet of paper: thank you, welcome, to the table. The microphone smells of mint and a warm palm. The bride’s father asks me for five minutes.

Sur ma feuille : merci, bienvenue, à table. Le micro sent la menthe et la paume chaude. Le père de la mariée me demande cinq minutes.

Thank you. Welcome. To the table.

Merci. Bienvenue. À table.

I talk about my niece, her husband who’s always on time. Then I leave the page behind. “They’d planned to leave before the cheese.” I look at the word table written twice.

Je parle de ma nièce, de son mari toujours à l'heure. Puis je quitte la feuille. « Ils avaient prévu de partir avant le fromage. » Je regarde le mot table écrit deux fois.

Last month, he asked me for three hundred euros. He talked about a wardrobe, a folding ruler under his arm. I gave him the money. There never was a wardrobe.

Le mois dernier, il m'a demandé trois cents euros. Il parlait d'une armoire, un mètre pliant sous le bras. J'ai donné l'argent. Il n'y a jamais eu d'armoire.

Thank you. Welcome.

Merci. Bienvenue.

My sister gets up without pushing back her chair. A cockchafer goes round inside the ice bucket. The cable pulls taut between us. I keep the microphone near my mouth.

Ma sœur se lève sans repousser sa chaise. Un hanneton tourne dans le seau à glace. Le câble se tend entre nous. Je garde le micro près de la bouche.

I look at her. “Yes, I knew.” She takes the cable in both hands. Nobody asks me to go on.

Je la regarde. « Oui, je le savais. » Elle prend le fil à deux mains. Personne ne me demande de continuer.

She pulls once. The plug takes a piece of skirting board with it. The microphone touches my lip, then the wooden floor. In the speaker, the word “leave” stays a second too long.

Elle tire une fois. La prise emporte un bout de plinthe. Le micro touche ma lèvre, puis le parquet. Dans l'enceinte, le mot « partir » reste une seconde de trop.

Lyrics and composition: Björn Lundberg
© 2026 Lundberg Selection