Learn French With Vianney with these 15 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)

How do you stay light on your feet when the world feels heavy? Vianney and Zazie turn this eternal question into a playful duet, inviting us to dance in the drama and laugh in the chaos. With every “comment on fait ?” they admit they do not really know the recipe, yet they keep moving anyway. The lyrics juggle between moments of doubt and spur-of-the-moment optimism, showing that sometimes resilience is less about having answers and more about adopting a cheeky attitude that says, “On s’en fout, let’s keep going.”

The song’s heart beats to a simple idea: give it your all, even if you fall again. Life’s highs and lows crash like “grandes marées” (big tides), but the duo suggests we ride those waves, improvise, and shrug off the bruises. By the final chorus, the message is clear: courage is not the absence of fear, it is the choice to dance anyway and trust that, somehow, we will make it through.

Je Suis Fou is a feel-good rallying cry where Vianney, Kendji Girac and Soprano proudly claim the label crazy for daring to care. The trio turns the spotlight on people who refuse selfishness, who swap “me” for “us,” and who offer a hand to the poor without resenting the rich. Instead of buying into division or conspiracy, they sing a contagious la-la-la that invites everyone to join a kinder, fairer parade.

Between buoyant guitars and a carnival of voices, the song insists that real change starts inside each listener: “On va se changer soi — we’re going to change ourselves.” By owning their “madness,” the artists flip the script, proving that empathy is not weakness but a superpower. The result is an uplifting anthem encouraging you to be fou enough to believe that collective love can rewrite the rules of the world.

Keep It Simple pairs French singer-songwriter Vianney with the ever-charismatic Mika for a bilingual plea to strip love down to its essentials. Over bright acoustic beats and playful “la-la-las,” the two vocalists play patient and doctor: one feels feverish, aching from head to toe, while the other offers the only cure that truly works—honest words and uncomplicated affection. The repeated line “We’ll keep it simple” is both a mantra and a prescription, reminding us that relationships start to hurt when we wall up our feelings or rely on quick fixes like “Mary Jane.”

Switching smoothly between English and French, the song highlights a universal truth: saying “I love you” should be easy, yet we often complicate it until our “âme” (soul) is “en chantier” (under construction). By the final chorus, the remedy is clear: drop the drama, speak from the heart, and let love itself be the medicine that puts everything right.

Packing and unpacking a metaphorical backpack, Vianney and iconic singer Renaud invite us on a soul-searching road trip. They stare at a world that is both “immense and sublime,” wrestle with ego, and wonder if chasing fame or a long life is worth the hassle. Along the way, they poke fun at humanity’s mirror maze: we start off young and obedient, end up fossils, and spend half the journey asking, “Is planning for tomorrow genius or pointless?”

The chorus lands like a friendly slap: stop counting candles, start living better now. Parenthood, climate worries, and generational friction all raise the stakes, but the remedy stays simple—cherish the moment, love people fiercely, ditch regrets, and let go of the dream of merely getting old. In the end, the song is a bright reminder that happiness is not about owning more years, it is about squeezing every drop out of the minutes we already have.

Vianney takes us on an adventurous road-trip across vivid African landscapes. Under scorching suns and beside smoking volcanoes, the singer marvels at burned soil that still bears fruit and at people who speak ancient tongues yet instantly understand each other. In the middle of this kaleidoscope appears the mysterious name Dabali, sung like a mantra in an unknown language that feels both tribal and universal. The repetitive chorus acts like a rhythmic heartbeat, echoing drums, footsteps, and the pulse of discovery.

But the song is more than a travel postcard; it is a celebration of human connection. Behind the exotic images lies a simple wish: “Gardez-moi” — keep me safe in the warmth of your hearts. Vianney suggests that love and empathy are languages everyone can speak, no translation needed. Dabali becomes a symbol of togetherness, reminding us that, no matter where we roam, we are all part of the same global melody.

“Beau-Papa” is Vianney’s heartfelt ode to step-parenthood, celebrating the moment love turns a blended family into a real one. Singing from the point of view of a man who didn’t plan to “adopt” a child but happily adapts, Vianney shows that genetics are only a footnote; what matters is the bond two (or three) people build together. The song paints touching scenes of storms weathered hand in hand, promises never to leave, and the tender respect he has for the biological father whose face he still sees in the child.

With simple words and a warm, acoustic vibe, Vianney turns an everyday family situation into a universal message: love chooses you, and when it does, bloodlines no longer matter. “Beau-Papa” reminds us that families are made by hearts, not just genes, and that the courage to step in and love someone else’s child is as beautiful as any fairy-tale beginning.

Feeling the Monday blues? Vianney turns that gloomy mood into a rallying cry for action in N'attendons Pas. The narrator wakes up on a “cursed Monday morning,” fed up with a loveless routine and empty promises. Instead of waiting for the perfect friend, the perfect train, or the perfect moment, he plants a new flag: life itself. Every repeated chorus reminds us that we have no time to mope, settle, or day-dream. We may have “years ahead,” but the real treasure is now.

Vianney’s upbeat folk-pop melody drives home a simple yet electric message: stop postponing happiness and start living today. Whether you’re stuck in a boring job or waiting for a miracle, the song nudges you to seize your own journey, find peace on your own terms, and celebrate life as the ultimate gift.

Pour De Vrai (which means For Real) is Vianney’s joyful declaration that love can completely flip your world. Before meeting his partner, the singer was “shouting in the rain.” Now, every sunrise feels like a gift because, to him, “the sun is you.” He begs to be woken up if he ever stops marveling at their shared life, showing how amazed he still is by this unexpected happiness.

The rest of the lyrics are a playful yet sincere promise: they will leave Paris, sing together while waiting for a baby, and face “punches and old age” side by side. Repeating “Je ris pas” (I’m not joking) and “Pour de vrai,” Vianney underlines that this is not a fleeting romance but a lifelong vow. The song glows with optimism, reminding us that seeing “the world in miniature” is fine as long as their love stays huge and real.

Imagine feeling as leaky as a cracked jug, drying out under the moonlight while instinctively reaching for someone who is no longer on the sofa. “Pas Là” paints that exact picture: Vianney mixes playful imagery with raw heartbreak to describe the hollow echo that follows a breakup. The repeated question "Mais t'es pas là, mais t'es où?" is both a catchy hook and a desperate chant, capturing the shock of absence after nights once filled with joy, laughter, and intertwined hands.

Yet beneath the melancholy, the song carries a spark of resilience. The singer vows to keep living, to replace lost love however he can, and even invites every other "cracked jug" to join a buzzing new hive of wounded hearts determined to party again. It is a bittersweet anthem that balances tender vulnerability with a cheeky wink, reminding us that even when someone vanishes from our lives, the future can still be a celebration.

Merci Pour Ça ("Thanks for That") is Vianney’s heartfelt thank-you note wrapped in an upbeat folk-pop melody. Singing to someone who once walked by his side, he celebrates the moment they opened his eyes to the invisible treasures all around: the people we usually overlook, the stories we never bother to read. Through vivid images of "forgotten gems" and "unread books," he shows how this companion helped him notice the beauty and complexity hidden in every passer-by.

The refrain "Avant toi" ("Before you") turns the song into a touching before-and-after snapshot. Before meeting this person, Vianney felt like a cardboard heart and a leaf drifting in the wind—half alive, half aware. Thanks to them, he now has horizons, empathy, and purpose. In just a few poetic minutes, the singer reminds us that seeing with the heart can change not only how we look at others but also who we become. Merci pour ça, indeed!

Imagine a pillow turned into a canvas, marked with mascara tears after a lovers' spat. “Moi Aimer Toi” paints love as wonderfully messy: tiny arguments over a badly-made coffee, dramatic scenes that end in laughter, and the sweet surrender of blowing your nose in someone’s arms. Vianney shows that when I love you hurts me, the sting is part of the thrill.

Rather than seeking perfect harmony, the couple embraces every scratch and smudge. Their fights leave traces, but by the next day the same pillow is proof they can always tourner la page and start fresh. The song is a playful ode to imperfect love—one where humor, passion, and a touch of chaos keep the bond alive.

“On Est Bien Comme Ça” celebrates a laid-back, shoulder-to-shoulder kind of love. Vianney sings about two people who may wander down “different roads,” yet keep walking side by side in spirit. Even when “the sky looks threatening,” they choose to see a “rising sun,” trusting that optimism and mutual support will outshine any storm. The repeated promise “Si tu tombes, je ne t’en veux pas” (If you fall, I won’t blame you) turns the song into a warm safety net: mistakes are allowed, imperfections are welcome, and caring for each other is what truly matters.

At its core, the song is a joyful shrug at life’s blisters and pebbles. Whether it’s missing “the right baggage,” arguing over random topics, or feeling a sting from long-distance struggles, nothing can break their easygoing bond. Vianney’s refrain “On est bien comme ça” (We’re fine like this) is a melodic reminder to accept yourself, cherish your companion, and keep moving forward with light hearts—even if your shoes hurt a little.

Picture the chill of a Paris evening suddenly swept away by a warm Mediterranean breeze—that is exactly what happens to the narrator the moment he meets la fille du sud. Vianney tells the story of a man who stumbles into a café, hoping not to cross paths with this southern girl yet irresistibly drawn to her sunny charm. Her accent, her leisurely pace, and even the famous Mistral wind of her homeland crash into his orderly city life, melting his defenses. He would accept any role—friend, chauffeur, anything—just to orbit her radiant world.

As their relationship blooms from hesitant friendship to deep affection, the girl from the south turns his once-cold days into a perpetual summer. She brings the color of her “country” into his gray streets, filling them with Mediterranean light. Even after their love is sealed “with two rings wrapped in silver paper,” he marvels at the unlikely magic of it all, wondering if their meeting was happy chance or destiny. The song celebrates how one vibrant soul can brighten an entire life, proving that les filles du sud are anything but ordinary.

Vianney’s “Dumbo” is a playful pep-talk wrapped in catchy pop. The French singer looks back to the moment his mother listened to Stevie Wonder while waiting for his birth, hinting that music and love have been guiding him since day one. From there, he turns the spotlight on a lesson we often forget: we never see as clearly as we do "with the heart." Instead of fixating on what we lack, Vianney urges us to recognize that our true worth shines from the inside out. Like the Disney elephant who discovers he can soar with his oversized ears, the songwriter chooses to “fly over” his flaws, reminding us that even a mighty elephant king can stumble and dance awkwardly—just like everyone else.

Ultimately, “Dumbo” is an anthem of self-acceptance. It invites listeners to rise above insecurities, noise, and outside judgments, focusing instead on self-love and genuine happiness. Through warm imagery and a lilting melody, Vianney suggests that when we embrace who we are—quirks, stumbles, and all—we give ourselves permission to take off, glide higher, and live with open-hearted freedom.

Vianney’s "Je Te Déteste" is a break-up anthem where bitterness meets cheeky humour. The French singer-songwriter turns his guitar into a safe punching bag, preferring to "slap his strings" rather than his ex’s backside. Line after line, he admits that music is his only real talent for soothing a bruised heart. By spelling out D-E-T-E-S-T-E, he vents his frustration in bold capital letters, yet the playful delivery hints that he is smiling through the tears.

Beneath the sarcasm lies a relatable message: when love collapses, creativity can stitch us back together. Vianney mocks his own shortcomings as a musician, imagines bizarre revenge plots, then ultimately chooses song over spite. The result is a catchy lesson in emotional self-control, showing how art can transform anger into something catchy, cathartic and strangely uplifting.