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1. |
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Today we’re eighteen again, we’re immortal
With nothing in our way to slow us down
No game, no judge, no battle
A rhythm starts and everyone understands
There’s no other way than all in, heads, hips and hands
There’s nothing like hitting the dancefloor with friends
Nothing like busting a move with some of the best people around
There’s nothing like hitting the dancefloor with friends
So give us a beat and watch us move in
For a moment let’s forget all bogged-down feelings
And instead relish the thought we’re all extraordinary beings
For they are oh so strong, these bodies of ours
They are clear and bright, oh them eyes
There’s nothing like hitting the dancefloor with friends
Nothing like busting a move with some of the best people around
There’s nothing like hitting the dancefloor with friends
So give us a beat and watch us, watch us...
Take it away!
Let’s go ahead and get lost in the rhythm
Dance to the beat of our own drum
Let loose, let go of any reason not to feel whole
Tonight we set our spirits free
Reclaim our bodies in all their beauty
Let loose, let go of any reason not to lose control
There’s nothing like hitting the dancefloor with friends
Nothing like busting a move with some of the best people around
There’s nothing like hitting the dancefloor with friends
So give us a beat and watch us, watch us move in, move in
There’s nothing like hitting the dancefloor with friends
So give us a beat and watch us move in
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2. |
Shit Done (Band Version)
03:36
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I’m a soft man
In a tough world
I understand
What it means to hurt
So I don’t talk down
If I can help it
To anyone
Not ashamed of it
The parts of me that are broken or chafed
Hold hands with the parts unscathed
They’re cards of the same pack
And I just play them back to back
I’m compassionate
And I think it’s ok
To choose it
This kinder way to play
So I don’t talk loud
I’m a listener
Only ever proud
If it makes me better
A better person
More in tune
With emotion
More human
And none of it gets in my way
I get shit done
I get shit done
I get shit done
I get shit done
Some of the few things I know
Are: reciprocity makes for good friends
Self-servingness is a no
As a means to any or all ends
And a hurtful truth can be quashed
By a well-meaning, innocent lie
And our faults can be washed
By genuine will to make things right
So I want to make space
For the freak
To hold up their face
To breathe, to speak
Space for them, him, her
For us all to try to shine brighter
And I can write us a few songs
To right more than a few wrongs
You know what else?
I get shit done
I get shit done
I get shit done
I get shit done
I don’t bend under pressure
Not scared of getting my hands dirty if I must
I just get the work done
I don’t bend under pressure
Not scared of getting my hands dirty if I must
I just get the work done
I don’t waste nobody’s time
With drama, guilt and a bunch of excuses
I just get the work...
I get shit done
That’s what I do
It’s just, just what I do
Damn right!
I get shit done
I get shit done
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3. |
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J’ai tout prévu, les valises sont faites
J’ai les billets en poche
Deux allers simples à nos noms
J’ai pas trié nos garde-robes
J’ai juste pris l’essentiel
Rien de chaud et rien de long
Et s’ils disent qu’on est fous
Je m’en fous
Envoie valser les on-dit
Les jalousies, et largue les amarres
Envoie valser les rumeurs qui s’empressent
Ça leur passera, viens, on part
Demain matin, on se réveillera
Sur une plage quelque part
À l’ombre de montagnes
Au silence d’une mer calme
J’aimerais qu’on soit demain déjà
Mon île est ton île
Et ton île est mienne
Envoie valser les on-dit
Les venins, et levons l’étendard
Envoie valser les rumeurs qui s’affolent
Ça leur passera, viens, on part
Viens, viens, viens
Viens, viens, viens
Viens, viens, viens
Viens, on part, on part
Viens, viens, viens
Viens, viens, viens
Viens, viens, viens
Viens, on part, on part
Et même s’ils disent qu’on est fous
Viens
Et envoie valser les on-dit
Viens, qu’on s’évade, qu’on s’élance, qu’on s’égare
Envoie valser les rumeurs qui s’entêtent
Ça leur passera, viens, on part
Viens, on part
Viens, viens
Viens, on part
Viens, on part, on part
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4. |
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We were all about notes and fax machines
Swimsuits, sunglasses and baggy jeans
Roof nights in sleeping bags, nestled tight
And diving in the pool with the morning light
Stumbling through your history of choices
You danced, you were all eyes and poses
You pushed me and pulled me back for fun
I cut the cord before we got burned
T’was a recipe for disaster
T’was a recipe for disaster
Sure was a recipe for disaster
In a blur, body on body, skin on skin
We were thrown off by a surplus of adrenaline
From nothing to everything in a flash
In a flash from burning to ashes
T’was a recipe for disaster
T’was a recipe for disaster
Our moves were sweet and uncalculated
What a shame it had to turn sour
To feel emotionally assaulted
Left us all predictably bitter
T’was a recipe for disaster
T’was a recipe for disaster
So now I choose to be my own master
My own master
My own master
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Humble Humans Paris, France
🌈 Quatuor parisien à la folk-pop poétique et multicolore de l'auteur-compositeur-interprète 🇫🇷-🇲🇺 Jonathan Meur.
✨
🌈 Paris-based band led by 🇫🇷-🇲🇺 singer-songwriter Jonathan Meur. We make bittersweet, poetic, rainbow-coloured, feels-inducing indie folk-pop. ✨
linktr.ee/humblehumans
Booking / presse : wearehumblehumans@gmail.com
Management : collectiflapulse@gmail.com
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