La Solitude paints loneliness as a stubborn, almost mischievous shadow that barges through the singer’s front door and refuses to leave. Wende Snijders personifies solitude as a relentless “renifleuse des amours mortes” who sniffs out failed romances, sticks to her heels, and drains color from her nights. The narrator hurls insults at this unwanted guest, begging her to go bother someone else so she can still sway her hips, get drunk on springtime, and chase sleepless nights of passion.
Yet loneliness is patient. It reminds the singer that the poets and lovers have departed, then coils around her neck, hips, and knees until it becomes an inseparable escort. The song captures the push-and-pull between the craving for vibrant love and the inescapable reality that solitude will always return. By the final refrain, we feel both the sting and the strange intimacy of accepting that inner companion who waits, uninvited, at every doorstep.