Maybe you’ll not understand what I’ll say,
Maybe you’ll think I’m a kid or just stupid,
I’m none of both,
I’m just a french quebecer, trying to speak your language.
It’s sad because some people say’s I writting so well in french,
A little bit poetical, a little bit deeply, a little bit manly.
But since yesterday, my heart’s bleed.
A wave of hate fall on my body.
I was born in the east side of Montréal,
The french side, those with refinery,
Just under a highway.
Under 12 years old, the only time I heard english,
It was the Katimavik guy my mom host for two weeks.
It was like hosting and alien.
Not because he was ugly, stupid, agressive, bad or something else.
Just because him or us, don’t have any way to communicate.
Today, it’s seem to be the same thing with all of you, english canadians.
We are so close and so far in the same time.
Today, I’ve discover that I’m the ennemy,
Those to be killed.
Everywhere on the internet, the "hunt" of separatists seems to be opened.
Pauline Marois, a democratical elected Premier,
Are viewed like Satan, or something worst.
I SWEAR I have never seen, in my entourage,
A violent move on an english person. NEVER.
For sure, there’s always drunks badass on both sides after the last call,
But there’s is NO PLAN to exterminate allophones, in any Quebec family.
There’s about 300 000 000 peoples speaking english in north america !
We’re just 7 000 000 !
There’s NO GAZ CHAMBERS ! No invasion plan.
Just a "country", who want to make his own way.
I’d like to share with you my life, my culture, my passions,
But I just to make this in MY house, in MY traditions.
I’m not a racist, I’ve already learn greetings salutations in near 12 languages.
And trying to learn vietnamese or spanish.
I don’t understand these hate,
Because I just want to protect my culture,
I just want to leave in peace and host some friends like you,
I just don’t want to be killed…
I just want to speak french.