Indochine sweeps you into a dreamlike duet of French poetry and English whispers. Belfast paints a hazy picture of love that hovers between earth and sky: a wooden bench in a manor garden, a “bord du ciel” where angels circle, and secret letters written then torn apart. The singer is caught in a thrilling tug-of-war, craving a face-to-face meeting yet trembling at the thought of it. Images of poison in the mind and black notebooks hint at the darkness that often shadows deep desire, while the repeated chant of “I feel, I wanna be, I wanna try” pulses like a heartbeat urging courage.
Ultimately the song feels like a cinematic road trip through longing, fear and devotion, with Ariel and heavenly wings reminding us that love can feel both earthly and immortal. Belfast’s swirling mix of languages and celestial metaphors invites you to step outside everyday reality, taste the electric tension of forbidden affection, and believe—just for a moment—that two souls can defy gravity together.