Learn French With ZAZ with these 23 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)

ZAZ’s “Comme Ci, Comme Ça” is a joyful anthem of unapologetic self-expression. The singer brushes off anyone who tries to shape her into something she is not, proudly declaring, “Je suis comme ci… je suis comme ça” – I’m like this, I’m like that. Instead of bending to outside expectations, she tunes into her own inner voice, trusts her hands, and walks her own path. The repetitive chorus feels like a musical shrug that says, Take me or leave me, I’m fine either way!

Beneath its playful rhythm, the song delivers a powerful message: true freedom comes from embracing your quirks, your dreams, and your creative spark. ZAZ reminds us that life is too short for borrowed ambitions. Listen closely, follow your gut, and let your soul sing its very own melody – just comme ci, comme ça.

Mon Cœur Tu Es Fou is ZAZ’s fiery confession of a heart that refuses to stay quiet.

Right from the opening line, she admits she doesn’t know what she wants. Her restless eyes and freshly broken heart push her into dark corners, keeping her awake at night. Yet instead of collapsing, she addresses her own heart like a wild friend: “Mon cœur, tu es fou” - “My heart, you are crazy.” That “crazy” heart keeps her alive with a fierce-yet-tender flame, even after being branded by hatred.

In the second half she turns her spotlight on the back-stabbers around her. These people smile to her face then slash her with whispered gossip, calling her “a whore” or “a lunatic with problems.” ZAZ replies with raw irony and unwavering strength: although their words hurt, her heart keeps beating louder, fueled by that same flame. The song is both a lament and a declaration of freedom - a reminder that pain, passion, rage and resilience can coexist in one “crazy” heart that simply refuses to give up.

Je Pardonne is Zaz’s heartfelt anthem of liberation through forgiveness. Instead of letting old wounds keep “knives” twisting in her skin, the French singer decides to forgive so she can breathe again, clear space in her mind, and rediscover the child she once was. Every “I pardon” peels away heavy layers of bitterness, darkness, and grey souls from her past, letting in fresh light and oxygen. She forgives the past, the future, and even the people who hurt her, not to excuse their deeds but to keep their “dirty hands” from clinging to her spirit.

The chorus slips into Spanish—“Te perdono, me perdono, pero recuerdo todo” (“I forgive you, I forgive myself, but I remember everything”)—underscoring that forgiveness is both outward and inward, global and personal. Zaz admits the memories stay, yet she gathers the crumbs of her experiences, shouts forgiveness at the top of her lungs, and refuses to be haunted or held in debt. By pardoning silence, absence, and unspoken love, she claims every sparkle of new days being born and dying. The song is an uplifting reminder that we can choose rage without rancor, passion without poison, and hope that, in return, others might forgive us too.

Demain C'est Toi feels like a radiant love letter sent through time to an unborn child. With every line, ZAZ paints a hopeful roadmap where she clears paths, melts prison-like walls, and gifts all the beauty of the world to the little soul she hasn’t met yet. The song overflows with parental tenderness: she whispers the child’s name to the wind, forges a brighter tomorrow with white-hot fists, and vows that happiness will be as boundless as her own.

Beneath the gentle folk melody lies a powerful message: the future belongs to the next generation, so we must nurture it with love, freedom, and limitless possibilities. By addressing “the child who comes, like a small dawn,” ZAZ reminds us that every act of care today lights the way for tomorrow. Listening to this track feels like being wrapped in a warm promise that the world can indeed be kinder, brighter, and tailor-made for new dreams.

Picture this: someone so desperate to be heard that they fling bottle after bottle into the sea, each carrying an invisible S.O.S. In “Tous Les Cris Les S.O.S,” French singer ZAZ turns that image into a powerful anthem about loneliness, unheard cries, and the stubborn spark of hope. The song uses ocean imagery—empty bottles, swirling foam, shattered glass—to show how our pleas for help can drift aimlessly, crash on distant rocks, or sparkle like “star-stones” once the tide pulls them back.

Yet beneath the melancholy lies a call to action: gather the broken pieces, rethink our “heroes,” and build a world where the most beautiful things still remain to be done. ZAZ’s soaring voice reminds us that even when we feel drowned out by life’s noise, every whisper for connection leaves a trace, waiting for someone to listen and transform it into something bright.

In "Tout Là-haut" ZAZ invites us to climb "way up there" above the bustle of everyday life. From this lofty viewpoint the world suddenly looks brighter, colors feel richer and we can finally taste the stars. The song paints that altitude as a place of quiet where ego softens, childhood scars start to heal and we trade our daily masks for honest, wide-eyed wonder.

Floating in this calm sky we are urged to pause, listen to our own echo and rediscover the words that matter. Solitude becomes sweet, certainties dissolve and we remember why we exist — or even why we resist. With each gentle refrain of « Allez, viens » ZAZ beckons us to join her in sketching fresh ideals, letting old fears fall away and feeling as free as birds at heart. The message is both simple and uplifting: gain some height, nurture your inner peace and watch how beautifully life unfolds.

Imagine opens like a friendly daydream, inviting us to stand on the riverbank with Zaz and picture a world that rhymes with you and me. Love is the spark, but it quickly spreads to something bigger: routines are tossed overboard, hearts become little boats, and every choice turns into ink that writes tomorrow. Instead of sighing c'est comme ça, the song dares us to dream again, to weave a gentler future with our own hands, and to let hidden smiles brighten life for the children growing up ici-bas.

Beneath the catchy refrain lies a simple yet powerful idea: we become what we imagine. Hope is not wishful thinking; it is a blueprint. By believing in brighter days, our souls begin to sail toward them. Close your eyes, breathe in, and let the melody remind you that a kinder planet starts inside every listener; all it takes is one more shared dream.

“Si” invites us into a vivid day-dream where Zaz imagines herself as a goddess, queen, or giant able to erase misery with a sweep of her hand. Line after line, she paints fantastical pictures: tears turning into rivers, deserts bursting with flowers, lost hopes reborn in technicolor. Each “Si j’étais…” (If I were) verse piles on another wish, celebrating the limitless creativity of human imagination when we picture a kinder world.

Yet the song quickly brings us back to earth. Zaz admits she owns no crown, no magic, “just a ragged heart and twig-thin hands.” The turning point arrives when she realizes that while one person may be powerless, millions of ordinary hearts united can outlast any winter. The closing chant builds like a human chain: “peu à peu, miette à miette, goutte à goutte, et cœur à cœur” (little by little, crumb by crumb, drop by drop, and heart to heart). The message is clear and uplifting – grand change begins with small, shared gestures, and together we can rebuild a brighter world from the ashes. 🎶💕

Paris Sera Toujours Paris is Zaz’s joyful revival of a 1939 classic that celebrates the city’s unbreakable spirit during dark times. The lyrics paint wartime scenes: windows criss-crossed with tape, streetlights dimmed, statues swaddled in sandbags, and citizens huddling in cellars while sirens wail. Rations, curfews, and even a ban on jazz try to dampen morale, yet Paris keeps its charm alive with humor, courage, and a flair for effortless elegance.

Despite blackouts and tightened belts, the song insists that “Paris will always be Paris.” Each restriction only highlights the city’s inner glow: less lighting makes bravery shine brighter, simpler fashions make grace stand out, and fewer luxuries make every smile feel richer. Zaz turns this message into a lively anthem, reminding listeners that true beauty and joie de vivre cannot be dimmed by hardship. Paris, like the human spirit, endures and dazzles no matter how deep the darkness.

Je Veux is ZAZ's joyful manifesto of freedom and authenticity. With her raspy voice and swinging gypsy-jazz groove, she laughs at the idea of luxury hotels, designer diamonds, and even the Eiffel Tower: 'J'en ferais quoi?' (What would I do with that?). Instead of polished manners and silver cutlery, she proudly eats with her hands and speaks her mind. The song bursts with street-corner energy, turning every fancy gift down in a playful papalapapapala scat.

What does she really want? Love, joy, and good vibes, things money can't buy. ZAZ invites us to walk with her, hand on heart, to discover a life where clichés fall away and genuine connection rules. It's an open-armed welcome to her reality, where honesty beats hypocrisy, laughter beats protocol, and where everyone is free to sing along.

Pack your suitcase of imagination, because “On Ira” is ZAZ’s musical world tour where every stop is a shout-out to our shared humanity. From jazz-soaked street corners in Harlem to tea-scented souks in Amman, from the fiery lights of Bombay to the serene flow of the Sénégal River, the song whisks us across continents in a matter of beats. Each destination is a colorful postcard that celebrates cultural richness and invites you to taste, listen, and marvel.

Yet the real journey is inward. ZAZ reminds us that our greatest treasure is the beautiful mix of differences we all carry. With cosmic metaphors like “You are the stars, we are the universe,” she paints a picture where every person, big or small, completes the grand mosaic of life. Friendship over flags, children as soul keepers, and shared moments as the only things we truly earn—this anthem calls us to lift our eyes, raise our glasses, and dance in the limitless party of human connection.

J’aime J’aime feels like a candid conversation in front of a mirror. ZAZ keeps asking herself “Qu’est-ce que t’aimes ?” and fires back a joyful inventory of little delights: honest people, silly smiles, neon lights, the freedom to bolt out the door and dive into daydreams. The melody skips along with her wandering thoughts, so you can almost picture her scribbling half-poems, cracking jokes to herself, and wondering if someone on the other side of the planet is thinking the exact same random thing.

Beneath the playfulness, the song spins a tender reflection on solitude. ZAZ celebrates the kind you choose—the quiet space where you chat with your own mind, turn the volume down on the world, and pull loneliness out “like a thorn.” Yet she also admits the flipside: the howling noise of emotions, the raging sea of self-doubt when you lose touch with who you are. By the final chorus, time blurs, past and future tangle, and only the present heartbeat matters. It is an ode to knowing yourself, loving your own company, and learning when to step back into the light with everyone else.

ZAZ’s “Gamine” is a whirlwind confession in which love feels both magical and slightly dangerous. The singer imagines wild, almost cartoon-like actions—plucking out eyes, breaking down doors, racing off for fries—all to show how fiercely she feels. Every verse swings between fiery jealousy and childlike devotion, capturing that dizzy moment when you would do anything, absolutely anything, to keep the spark alive.

Yet beneath the playful exaggeration lies a proud declaration: “Je ne suis plus une gamine” (“I’m not a little girl anymore”). ZAZ is telling her partner—and herself—that these intense emotions may roar like teenage drama, but they come from an adult who knows what she wants. The song is a celebration of passion’s extremes: it burns, it hurts, it thrills, and it proves that growing up does not mean loving any less fiercely; it just means owning the chaos with a grin.

Le Long De La Route feels like a friendly nudge from ZAZ to drop our armor and walk side by side. She sings about how pride, old arguments, and unspoken feelings have sealed our hearts, painting our lives in dull greys. Yet, the moment we choose to prendre la main—take each other’s hand—the road brightens. Forgiveness, honest listening, and a leap of faith can turn silence into vibrant color and transform lonely corners into shared adventures.

In playful, plain-spoken lines (“C’est con, ce qu’on peut être con”), ZAZ admits how silly we are when we hide from ourselves and forget that others mirror what we refuse to see. The song ultimately celebrates freedom: letting life flow, letting words stay just words, and daring to dream together. It is a hopeful anthem that reminds us the journey matters more than the baggage, and that every step taken in unity brings us closer to the future we truly want.

Qué Vendrá is ZAZ’s joyous invitation to jump into the unknown with a smile. Switching playfully between French and Spanish, she tells us that the future is a mystery, yet nothing to fear. What really matters is the audace (boldness) to hold someone’s hand, love the passing of time, and let both rage and tenderness fuel your journey. Every line celebrates living in the present, trusting your instincts, and writing your own story while the clock takes care of itself.

The chorus, “Qué vendrá” (What will come), becomes a carefree mantra: describe your road, don’t overthink it, and keep moving. Past mistakes are quicksand; love and friendship are the ropes that pull you free. Even getting lost is part of being found, so ZAZ sings with a wink that if she loses her way, it means she has already discovered herself and must simply continue. The song’s upbeat gypsy-jazz feel, mixed languages, and life-affirming lyrics create a musical postcard that urges listeners to embrace each second, love without limits, and dance forward into whatever comes next.

Imagine leaving sticky notes on the walls of your life so you never forget why you started. That is the spirit of ZAZ’s “Si Jamais J’oublie.” In this upbeat plea, the French singer asks her friends to shake her up, lock the door, and shout her name if she ever loses sight of her roots. She wants reminders of sweaty late-night gigs, ringing guitars, wild dreams, and the tear-streaked joy that first pushed her onstage.

The song is a joyful safety net—an urgent call to stay authentic when fame, fear, or routine tempt her to run. Each chorus is a musical Post-it: Remember who you are, why you sing, and what you promised yourself. Listeners come away feeling invited to protect their own passions, keeping life’s guitars and cries echoing even when memory fades.

“Sous Le Ciel De Paris” invites you to drift beneath the fabled Parisian sky, following a tune that flutters from French to Spanish just like swallows over the Seine. Zaz and Pablo Alborán paint vivid street-corner vignettes: a dreamy boy birthing a new melody, a philosopher brooding under Bercy Bridge, musicians squeezing life from an accordion, and crowds of lovers parading their happiness. The song is a love letter to the city’s everyday theatre, where even the homeless doze to the lullaby of the river and birds from every land gossip above the rooftops.

Soon the sky itself becomes the main character, wearing moods like costumes. It smiles blue when Paris charms it, sulks with rain when jealousy strikes, then apologises with a radiant rainbow. Along the way you’ll visit Notre-Dame, glide past Île Saint-Louis, and feel how hope can suddenly bloom with a single shaft of summer light. This playful, cinematic stroll through the capital reminds learners that vocabulary and emotion dance together; every cloud, bridge, and bell tower adds colour to the language you’re discovering.

Éblouie Par La Nuit plunges you into a cinematic after-dark Paris, where blinding streetlights and restless hearts pulse in the same rhythm. The singer wanders grayscale boulevards, rattling cans and skimming past speeding cars, waiting what feels like a hundred years for a mysterious whistler to appear. With every shimmer of dangerous light she wonders: Should we grab life by the throat or just watch it glide past? Smoke-clouded nights fade to ashes by morning, yet the promise of a reckless, soul-deep connection keeps her moving.

ZAZ’s gravelly voice turns these snapshots into a vivid urban fairytale. The song celebrates a love so intense it borders on madness: thrilling, fleeting, maybe even self-destructive, but impossibly alive. One last whirl around the dance floor, a metro that never really stops, and the ocean waiting at the edge of the city—everything feels infinite for a heartbeat. It is a hymn to nocturnal freedom, to loving fiercely in the face of uncertainty, and to being forever dazzled by the night.

“Sains et Saufs” is Zaz’s rallying cry for every free spirit who refuses to be squeezed into society’s tidy little boxes. From the very first lines, she declares that we are not meant for cages, rules, or polite obedience. Instead, we are “diamants délaissés” – neglected diamonds whose brilliance lies in our differences. The song bursts with a playful defiance: Zaz invites her lover (and us) to step off the beaten path, ignore the people “playing games,” and live unapologetically, even if that means breaking a few rules along the way.

Beneath the rebel energy beats a tender heart. When the world gives us “bleus” (bruises) or paints everything “rouge” (anger), love becomes a sanctuary that keeps us sains et saufs – safe and sound. Hand in hand, Zaz promises, we can shine like jewels under the sun, shake off our smudged faces, and start again. It is an uplifting reminder that authenticity plus love is the ultimate armor against fear, judgment, and conformity.

Step into the twilight garden that Zaz and Till Lindemann paint: a secret patch of night where flowers bloom on heartache. Each evening the singer lays her heart among petals, kisses taste first of honey then salt, and even the trees and nightingales join the quiet sobbing. The mix of French and German sounds like two voices echoing in a misty greenhouse, lush, intimate, and a little haunted.

Behind the poetic images lies a story of love changed by loss. The garden is really the narrator's grief; tears fall like rain, nourishing the blossoms as memories keep the departed lover alive. By turning sorrow into fertile soil, the song suggests that pain can feed beauty and growth, and that singing through sadness is its own quiet act of hope.

“La Pluie” paints a cinematic snapshot of a gray Sunday in December, where rain drapes itself over France like an uninvited yet familiar guest. Zaz watches umbrellas burst open in perfect rhythm, transforming the streets into a choreographed ballet of hurried passers-by. The falling drops become the song’s percussion, tapping out life’s steady beat while people scurry sans attendre (without waiting). The lyrics celebrate this moody weather as both nuisance and necessity: rain can shout, shove, vanish in a heatwave, then return like an old friend who knows we secretly missed them.

By repeating Tombe, tombe, tombe la pluie (“Fall, fall, fall the rain”), Zaz highlights our love-hate relationship with nature’s downpours. The water that once floods and inconveniences also refreshes, cleanses, and reconnects us to the rhythm of the earth. In the end, the rain’s “grande chanson” reminds us that even the gloomiest skies can spark beauty, movement, and a shared human moment under the shelter of bright, fluttering umbrellas.

“De Couleurs Vives” is ZAZ’s bright, soulful shout-out to diversity, equality, and unapologetic joy. From the very first lines she rejects the whispering hallway rumours that sort people into black or white. Same blood, same moon – so why let prejudice decide anyone’s worth? Exhausted by narrow-minded labels, she longs to breathe freely, to vivre, rire libre and splash the world with every shade of humanity’s palette.

Yet the song is not only a protest; it is a celebration. ZAZ pictures skies so stunning they make her envy birds that simply watch, never harm. She scolds those who trample the collective nous, but chooses hope over hate, asking the wind to blow unity back into our hearts. By calling herself une femme de couleurs vives, she invites us all to claim our own vivid colors, sing a little louder, and build a tomorrow where laughter and freedom paint the brightest mural of all.

Les Jours Heureux invites us to sit by the window with ZAZ, hear birds shouting their joyful chorus, and feel the contrast between their carefree melody and our own heavy hearts. Written in the shadow of lockdowns and face masks, the song turns everyday images—plumes, pianos, crossed-fingers wishes—into symbols of stubborn hope. ZAZ admits her fears, her lost bearings, even the weight of an “eternal winter,” yet she keeps believing that love can still “enchant happy days.”

Instead of surrendering to gloom, she treats the storm outside as the spark of a brighter dawn. Each chorus is a collective wish: may life pirouette across grand-piano keys, may angels amplify our dreams, and may people learn to love “a little like us two.” Les Jours Heureux is an anthem of resilience that says: cry if you must, but do not lose faith—because beyond the thunder lies a brand-new world already sprouting under our feet.