À son cou à ses genoux

I don't like his manners
Neither his character
I don't like his anger

I don't like what she dances
I don't like what she thinks
I don't like his violence

I'm crazy, what the hell am I doing?
On his neck, on his knees
I'm jealous as a wolf
I'm nothing more than all-or-nothing

I don't drink what she drinks
I don't believe what she believes
I don't see what she sees

I don't like her whistling at me
I don't like it when she scratches
I don't like her sniffing me

I'm crazy, what the hell am I doing?
On his neck, on his knees
I'm jealous like a wolf
I'm nothing at all anymore

I fall asleep on his heart
I wake up on his body

Like on a treasure
As if it were o-o-gold
Ooo-or
Oo-or

I don't like his friends
I don't like his books
I bit his dog

I don't like his speeches
Nor his puns
It's not my humor

I don't like his songs
I don't like his ways
His boyish games

I don't like his customs
I don't like his costumes
I don't like the way she smokes

I don't like his three sisters
I don't like her hairdresser
Nor her flowery jeans

I don't like what she dances
I don't drink what she drinks
I don't like her whistling at me