“C’est d’ici que je vous écris” invites you to squeeze into Calogero’s tiny, slightly messy creative hideout and watch songs take flight. He points out the wobbly chair, cold cup of tea, scribbled blue notebooks, and the very first guitar still proudly leaning in the corner. From this unremarkable yet magical “nest,” every confession, daydream, and shout of gratitude pours straight into his piano and out to the night sky. The chorus becomes his open letter to us, proving that life-changing melodies can start on a crooked seat beside a cracked window.
The track is really a love note to the creative process itself. By walking us through the room where he battles doubts, courts inspiration, and prays for the right words, Calogero turns vulnerability into an intimate conversation with listeners. He says thank you again and again because, from this cramped space, our ears turn his whispers into an infinite echo. In short, the song celebrates how ordinary objects and late-night solitude can spark music that travels far beyond its humble birthplace.