L’imbécile Lyrics in English Clio

Picture a tousled heroine tip-toeing home at dawn, the lights of Paris still glimmering in her eyes. In L’imbécile, Clio spins the story of a woman who lets the magic of a nighttime stroll with a near-stranger carry her away. She swears she wasn’t partying; she simply drifted through the city, trading laughs, clinking glasses, and watching the skyline melt into darkness. Yet the innocent adventure slips into a tiny kiss, and with it comes a surge of guilt. The chorus is her confessional: she calls herself “l’imbécile” because, while her partner was elsewhere, she shared the city’s romance with someone else.

Behind the breezy melody lies a bittersweet lesson about temptation, spontaneity, and accountability. Clio shows how easily boundaries blur when Paris is your playground, how a harmless detour can feel thrilling in the moment and foolish the next morning. Though she minimizes the kiss—“trois fois rien du tout,” almost nothing—she still pleads for forgiveness, promising she’s already forgetting the stranger. The song becomes a candid, relatable snapshot of human weakness: a mix of dazzling night lights, impulsive choices, and the hope that love can overlook one small slip.