All language subtitles for Dear.Mother.2020.NF.WEBRip

NETFLIX PRESENTS

♪ Yesterday in the kitchen ♪

♪ I was making dinner ♪

♪ When my little boy came in ♪

♪ He gave me a scribbled piece of paper ♪

♪ I wiped my hands on my apron ♪

♪ I read it ♪

♪ Here is what it said ♪

♪ For making my bed all week ♪

♪ Three francs ♪

♪ For going grocery shopping ♪

♪ One franc ♪

♪ For watching the baby ♪

♪ While you were out shopping ♪

♪ One franc, 25 cents ♪

♪ For taking the wastepaper basket down ♪

♪ 75 cents ♪

♪ Nine months of patience ♪

♪ And suffering for twelve hours ♪

♪ It's free ♪

♪ So many sleepless nights ♪

♪ Watching over your sleep ♪

♪ It's free ♪

♪ Rides on the merry-go-round ♪

♪ The toys, the school ♪

♪ It's free ♪

♪ And when you make the sum of it ♪

♪ The sum of my love ♪

♪ It's free ♪

We could go away next weekend.

- Huh? Where to?
- Don't know. Trouville?

Deauville suburbs?

Or maybe Honfleur. It's cute.

Mm-hm.

- Right?
- Yeah.

We'll find a nice hotel.

We'll have dinner on the harbor,
a seafood platter.

- Did you come?
- Walks, massages...

What?

What "what"?

- I don't get it.
- I'm asking you if you came.

Well, yes, didn't you hear?

- Yes, I heard.
- So, what?

See, I didn't come.

Ah.

You always talk after sex.

You... You chit-chat.

You're all excited.

What's this complaint?
You trying to piss me off?

Sorry, I feel good. Yes, I do.

Yes, you feel good.

Like someone who has finished a chore.

Or who has done housework.

Would you prefer I sulk?

Yeah, honestly,
I'd rather you sulked.

I feel like I'm living a farce.

A farce?

- Yes. Sorry.
- Really?

- I'm tired of fucking in the dark.
- You always want the lights off.

Yes, it helps.

- To think of someone else?
- No.

Yeah? That's nice.

I was thinking of us before.

Jean-Louis.

- We've been together for 17 years.
- I'm aware.

A relationship is about will,
compromises, patience,

not just passion.

You should know this at your age.

If you want to screw up everything

because of your silly nostalgia, go ahead.

You're so selfish.

Why do you lie?
Why do you fake your orgasms?

Is that lying?

- Sorry, but it's a lie.
- I'm protecting us. You.

Meanwhile, I also hope
that it'll be like it used to be.

Don't ask me questions
you won't ask yourself, okay?

So, how can we have better sex?

Do you love me?

Do you still love me?

I can ask you the same.

Let's not offload everything like that.
It's indecent.

We're not American.

So, you get to decide
when we talk honestly, when we don't.

Dammit, you're a pain.

Yeah, right.

You're tiring.
We can't talk anyway.

And you manage to ruin everything always.

You piss me off.

We'll have to book Honfleur soon.

It's a holiday weekend. They'll be full.

Jean-Louis,
the soft pedal, please.

- Good evening.
- Evening.

- You in a hurry?
- Yes.

We can be quick.

- No, thank you. I'm not looking.
- Because you've found it?

No, no, because...

I'm going home. Just walking the dog.

Where's the dog?

He must've gone ahead

because he runs off
as soon as he sees the way home.

Unlike his master.

How much do you have?

Funny,
I've always wondered how much you charged.

Eighty a fuck, 50 for a suck.

Suck?

Blow job.

Right.

No, I...

No, I don't know.

No, I don't think that's my...

my style, this.

I don't see myself...

And the woods, all of that.

Putting a price on it, that's...

Hang on.

- Hang on.
- What is it?

I've got a hairpin.

Damn it!

Your wedding band is stuck in my hairpin.

Try and remove your wedding band.

- It won't work.
- Gotta slip it.

No, I'll do it. Sorry.

- There.
- Great.

- Here you go.
- Thanks.

- Sorry.
- It happens.

- Really?
- Let's go.

No, it's fine. Don't worry.

- Don't wanna come?
- Yes, ideally,

but it's fine.

You can keep the 50 euros.

Well, yes. Yeah.

- Well, thanks a lot.
- See you soon.

It's that way.

- Where from?
- We came from there.

- That way? Okay.
- Yeah.

- Thanks.
- You're welcome.

- Bye. Yeah.
- See you soon.

Where have you been?

I went to get some air.

Um, some air?

You think I don't know?

You stink of cigarettes, darling.

One moment.

- Hello, Mr. Bordier.
- Thanks, Virginie.

We took the video off YouTube,
but it went viral.

They're always sharing it.
It's on WhatsApp, or I don't know what.

The whole high school has seen it.
Turn off that phone!

No one should have seen it.

It's not the issue!

Respect your family, if not yourself.

- I won't go to parent-teacher meetings.
- Don't worry.

Your family have
the right to be forgotten.

My job is to have this right enforced.
Legally, technically.

My teams will make sure
that this video disappears, okay?

Don't worry. So, Marie...

What is the name of your...

partner in that video?

Théo de Challonge.

Théo de Challonge. Good.

Clément Boursier.

- Good.
- Hugo Pélisson.

Louis d'Esclapière.

We're going to send
a letter to the parents,

try to find an agreement.

Meanwhile, we'll look at all the platforms

which could be hosting
the subject of the dispute.

TripAdvisor too.

What?

She's rated on TripAdvisor.

Huh?

- How much?
- Not the point.

Yes, sorry.

Trip...

I'm warning you.
You'll pay with your savings.

- No.
- Yes!

I don't get this generation,
always exhibiting themselves,

no inner sanctum, no privacy.

I don't think so.
It's that boy, I mean these boys,

who disrespected that moment
by sharing the video.

What?
"Disrespected that moment"?

My daughter slept with four guys.
You don't mind?

Hm.

Just a thought. Maybe she tried...

subconsciously...

to get to you
where it would hurt the most.

I need a lawyer, not a shrink.

You could need both.

Yes, and a lawyer could need a shrink too.

- True.
- Stand up.

Mr. La Rochène.

Thank you.

Uh...

Right. Not very stylish.
Doesn't fit a Japanese restaurant.

A Chinese-owned Japanese place.

Uh, okay. I didn't know. That makes sense.

Why? Are the Chinese less stylish
than the Japanese?

I didn't say that.

- That'd be racist.
- You never have racist thoughts?

- I try not to.
- Me too. I struggle.

I tell myself that I wouldn't struggle
if I were racist, so it's okay.

But you still have racist thoughts.

I have a small debate in my head.

I never agree with my racist thought.

Yes.

Meanwhile, two minutes ago,
the left-wing bobo said

that the Chinese aren't stylish.

I didn't say that.

I'm allowed to find it vulgar
to have a naked guy in my glass.

Doesn't mean I'm racist.

You didn't mind that
when getting head from your tranny.

That's not nice.
I tell you things, and you...

Didn't know he was a tranny.

That's the point of trannies. You can say,
"Didn't know he was a tranny."

- I thought he was transgender.
- Well, that's okay, then.

No, it's not okay.

I feel anxious,
like I can't control things.

- I've just lost a client.
- Maybe it's a burnout.

Not sure if it's depression that scares me

or if I'm depressed, therefore anxious.

The chicken, the egg?

Huh?

Which one came first?

The egg...

or the chicken?

- When Carole left me...
- Sushi spring rolls?

That's mine.

Thank you.

Thanks.

Crazy.
I always find myself under a spotlight.

- You're not here with a woman.
- You have hair. You don't get it.

They should ban spotlights
in public spaces.

Hm.

Have you ever felt like
your life wasn't real?

It's as though I stepped out of myself,

watched myself do things,
live my life, but...

it wasn't real.

No, it's real, but it's fake.

That's it.

As though there was a difference
between truth and reality.

My life is real.

But it's fake. See what I mean?

As though you were living a lie,
but you're not sure what the lie is?

Yeah, exactly.

No, I don't see.

It's a gigantic lie.
I can't pretend anymore.

Even with my cat.

Your cat?

My cat.

It's a farce. Think about it.

I feed it, and I hold it prisoner.

He doesn't love me.
It's the Stockholm syndrome.

His rubbing against me?
It's awful, not cute.

That cat's a tragedy.
It's Natascha Kampusch.

It's not affection when they do that.

They leave pheromones
and mark their territory.

Even worse. We lie, make up stories.

I doubt Natascha Kampusch rubbed herself
against Wolfgang Přiklopil.

Not on her own initiative anyway.

You're really weird.

Isn't it weird to know
the name of Natascha Kampusch's abductor?

Okay.

Sorry, it's all about me.
How are you? How's work?

The usual.

Broken pelvis,
intestinal worms, euthanasia.

Okay.

I don't want to be
at the office, at home or anywhere.

Not wanting to be anywhere is morbid.
Maybe you just want to die.

Sorry.

I think it isn't working.

- What's wrong?
- I asked for my heart rate.

- There's nothing.
- Might be the sensors.

- As long as it's beating.
- Right.

I like to know
if I'm pushing myself when I run.

I've been running for 45 minutes.
I'm not out of breath.

Pushing yourself will kill you one day.

Okay. Let me try.

Sorry.

Well, it's working.

Yes. Typical.

Maybe too much sweat on my hands.

Yes, that's it. Okay.

Exercise is good,
but we need to learn to chill.

Thanks.

Michel? It's me. Can you stop by, please?

I don't feel well.

No, it's urgent. Now, please.

Thanks. See you soon.

- Took you ages.
- Your switch is still broken?

Come in.

- I said it was urgent.
- That's why I hurried.

So?

- What's up?
- Not sure. Something's wrong.

It'll take a bit longer. That's for cats.

Little paw.

Well.

- Seems to be broken.
- Listen to my heart.

I'm listening.

No, my heart.

Right. Yes.

So.

- What's happening?
- Huh?

- What's happening?
- Oh!

- I don't get it. Are you cold?
- No.

- Are you hot?
- No, regular. Warm.

- Warm?
- Yes, you don't know what it means?

- Warm as in clammy?
- No, warm as in warm.

Fine, I'll call a doctor.
Thanks for coming.

- What did you eat?
- Japanese with you.

Right. Give me your arm.

It's inconceivable, literally. Sit down.

Listen.

You're not my client, so I won't lie.

I can't tell you.

Incredible. Your heart isn't beating.

I don't understand.

It's as though your cardiac muscle
isn't producing contractions.

Is it serious?

Well, when you're dead,

it isn't a big deal,
but since you're alive...

it's worrying.

Lie down.

What for?

- To resuscitate you.
- I'm moving.

I'd rather break your ribs
than watch you die.

But I'm not dead!

- I'm talking to you.
- I don't know. Not anymore.

I'm a vet, not a cardiologist.

- I'm here because I like you.
- Have there been cases like me?

Uh...

Yes, the cicada stays buried
for seven years before resurfacing.

Silly. It only lives for four weeks.

Who cares, Michel?

- You told Valérie?
- No, definitely not.

- She's your wife.
- Precisely.

It's tense. If I tell her I'm sick,
she'll have the upper hand.

I'll be her thing. No.

- And...
- She's mad.

No, she isn't mad.

No, I can't let you say that.

She's working on herself. Improving.

She's meditating.

Explains the incense. It's really toxic.

You eat organic
only to poison yourself with incense.

Again, who cares?

What do we do?

- I'll take you to the hospital.
- Okay.

What are they going to do?

I don't know.

Kick-start your heart
with a defibrillator.

You'll be intubated,
given respiratory support.

I'm breathing.

Or they'll put you
in a medically-induced coma.

What for?

To bring you back to life.

Say something normal.

You're abnormal.
You're dead, but you keep moving.

- You find that normal?
- I'm not dead, dammit!

I can see you're not dead.
I know that, but...

Don't yell at me. I don't get it.

What's going on?

Why are you shouting?

We aren't.

You were shouting, "I'm not dead."

Because he isn't.

I wouldn't be shouting,
"I'm dead" if I was. Nonsense.

Usually, when you add my name
at the end of a sentence,

something's wrong.

You're leaving?

- We're not leaving.
- Aren't you?

Are you joking?

Why is that around your neck?

- What are you hiding from me?
- Nothing, Valérie.

Did you catch something?

- We should tell her.
- Tell me what?

Nothing. There's nothing to tell.
You hear? Nothing.

She has the right to know what's up.

- What's she doing?
- She's mad.

- You said the opposite.
- Want me dead?

- Can't find my keys. Open the door.
- Not unless you explain things.

- We should go.
- Give me your keys, please.

I beg you, tell me what it is.

He had a cardiac arrest.

- When?
- Now.

- Right now.
- What?

His heart isn't beating. Gotta go.

- Your heart isn't beating.
- Just said so.

- Show me your pulse.
- No pulse.

- I can't show it.
- Give it to me.

You're surprised.

Sorry?

To be heartless.

I don't want to discuss it.

Are you scared? Why?

You meditate two hours a day,
stroke vegetables, you talk to flowers,

you take ocarina lessons!

Are you done? Listen to me for once.
Try and think differently.

There may be answers somewhere
other than in your small Cartesian field.

Please, I don't need this.

I'm begging you. Use this
as an opportunity to sort things out.

- Listen to your heart.
- Excuse me.

I think that there's probably
a lot of truth in what you say,

but I'm a scientist.

We must rush him to the hospital.

No, I just want to get out of here.

You go to the ER
when science has no answer?

- Think they'll have answers?
- It's a mystery.

Give me my keys back.

The key is within you.

- Please.
- You left your keys in the door.

- Stop with your symbolic sentences.
- You really did.

What a message. A Freudian slip.
You can't ignore this or the truth.

Talk to me.
Tell me what lies deep in your heart.

You spend days fixing people's past.
It's time you took care of yours.

Yes? Yes? Yes?

I'll call Margaux. She'll see us.

Not Margaux. The crazy one. Your guru.

She's a holistic life coach, not a guru.

I'm better now that I see her.

- I think I'd prefer the hospital.
- To find yourself with tubes all over?

This isn't about the engine, darling.
Michel.

Okay, well,

you're dead anyway,

so from a medical standpoint,
there's not much to lose.

The worst that can happen
is your heart will start.

I'll call Margaux.

Sure, of course.

It's good you came.

Thanks for seeing us
as a matter of urgency.

I know you, Mr. Bordier.

- Well, no.
- Jean-Louis.

Never mind, Valérie. I'm used to doubters.

Men, especially.

They hate confusion.
They want it to be simple.

But simple things don't exist.

Your arm.

- Your arm.
- Your arm.

Not one beat. It's extraordinary.

Extraordinary.

Your heart is beating.

- No, that's the issue.
- Not your physical heart.

We have two hearts.
A physical heart, a cosmic heart.

- There.
- Valérie.

Sorry.

Your cosmic heart is beating,

but it isn't connected to
the physical one.

To put it simply. Not anymore.

It isn't transmitting
the crucial drive from your karma

so your physical heart
isn't beating in your chest.

Your cosmic heart

is a prisoner of Karunga.

What's that?

A Karunga could be compared to a purgatory
in our Judeo-Christian traditions.

To put it simply.

You're in between two worlds,
facing two exits.

You have to pick
the one that's an entrance.

An entrance to?
To your physical heart, of course.

Of course, obviously.

The Karunga isn't a joke.

It is a power which is above all,
me included.

The Karunga can heal and free you,

but also kill you.

I am here to save you.

- Very well, let's end it then.
- You have to help me.

Do you want to?

- Yes.
- Valérie.

Sorry.

- Do you want to help me?
- Yes, very well. Let's go.

Follow me.

Come.

- So, what are you waiting for? Go on.
- Come.

Unbelievable.

Come.

Sit down.

In the circle?

That's it.

Call it a circle, if you wish.

- You have a nice place.
- Thanks.

- Valérie.
- Sorry.

A beautiful piano. You can play. Fauré.

I love it.

Shame they wouldn't let you go pro.

Oh!

Valentine.

What, Valentine?

Your first girlfriend hurt you.

She broke my heart.

I cried for six months.
I spent seven weeks in deep sleep therapy.

Yes, yes, yes.

No family photos,
no photos of your mother.

- She's dead?
- Uh, no.

Uh, sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry.
You don't see her much.

She was hard on you
when your sister stole from her.

She blamed you.

She hit you
with the yogurt maker's extension.

It was common in the '70s...

Yogurt makers?

No, hitting one's kids.

The first time you experienced injustice.

But...

You suffered tremendously.

It wasn't that big a deal.

Stop playing down your primal pain, Okay?

Any issues with women?

In a gay way?

No.

No.

In a misogynistic way.

Uh, no.

Uh...

- I mean, yes.
- Valérie.

Sorry, but yes.

Yes?

- No, no.
- No?

Don't think so.

Come.

- You Okay?
- Yeah.

I'll save you.

How do you know all of these things?
You told her?

Me? You've never told me.

- Thanks for that. For trusting me.
- Valérie.

Uh, sorry.

You have an issue with your mom.

Really? I never see her.

Well, yes. Why?

Why? I don't know.
We don't see each other.

When we do, it's complicated.
It's complicated, so we don't meet.

Life isn't a video
you can erase and get rid off.

She means your job.

Valérie, that's enough. Dammit!

You need to see your mother again.

Really? Why?

You need to come back with her.

Want to see my mother?

Your mother's source.

My mother's source? What's that?

The place where you... came out.

Well...

- I don't... Yes, right. Her...
- Yes, that's...

I came out like everyone else.
Through her vagina.

I need to see it.

- Her vagina?
- Yes.

Huh.

That's impossible.
I can't ask her such a thing.

- Why?
- Why? She's 82 years old.

I can't ask her to show you...

- Her genitals.
- Yes.

A photo, then.

You think I have photos of it?

You need to take a photo.

You can't ask me that.

I'm not asking my mom
to let me take a photo of her thing.

Then, you'll die. Bye.

- Wait!
- Don't leave me like that.

If we don't show the Karunga the source,
your heart won't start.

Can't the Karunga work it out on its own?

It works through me.
I'm its eyes. To put it simply.

How do you want me to do that?

Haven't seen her in four years.
"Mom, I need a photo of your pussy."

- Not digital.
- What?

I need something material.

Please, you can't ask me that.

You have three days.
In three days, you're dead.

Show me the source, Jean-Louis.

You Okay?

- I had a nightmare.
- Doesn't look like it.

Seems like that's working.

And your heart?

Still nothing.

DAY ONE

How did she know about Valentine?

Powers?
You're not going to believe that rubbish?

She told me about things
I'd never told anyone.

You're mad. You're irrational.

My heart stopped beating 18 hours ago.
That's rational?

Can you explain it rationally?

- It doesn't make sense.
- Of course not!

Nothing does.
Gotta look for answers elsewhere. Sense!

Who cares about sense?

How is she planning
to start up your heart?

- She wants to...
- What?

She wants to see my mom's...

- I didn't get it.
- She wants to see my mom's vagina.

What? She wants to see your mom's vagina?

- Your mom's vagina?
- Or a photo of it.

A photo of your mom's vagina?

- You're going to do it?
- Of course.

You're mad.

Your poor mom. You can't ask her that.

No, of course I can't.

- I'm relieved.
- That's why I thought...

Yes?

- What?
- Well, you.

What, me?

You could do it.

- You're going mad.
- You're a doctor.

I'm a vet, not a doctor.

Exactly. I can't ask that from my mom.

You're raving mad. Come on, Jean-Louis.

- I won't ask her that.
- You've always known each other.

- I haven't seen her since...
- And?

Do it for me. Save me. Please.

You know what you're asking me? You can't.

Who put you up when Carole left?

Who lent you money to buy a horse?
Who has been carrying you for years?

- You.
- What have you done for me?

I'm your friend.

You won't photograph my mom.

- So?
- He won't do it.

Hey, you, come here.

Hey.

Your best friend's dying.
You won't save his life?

This is ridiculous.

- A Freudian fortune teller.
- She's not a fortune teller.

I'll kill you if you don't save him.

I'll kill you. I'll bleed you.
I'll cut your throat and your dick.

I'll rape your trachea with it.

- She's kidding?
- No.

What am I to do?

Show up with fruit jellies,
ask her to undress?

Please, don't be vulgar.
We're visiting her today.

- Where?
- Her place. In two hours.

Look. It's simple.

You won't have to do anything.

Just press that button.

Look!

Here. Activate the flash.

- Think you'll need it.
- You've lost it.

I won't use the Polaroid.

- She won't do digital.
- Not the point.

Come on.

You're nuts.

- Yes?
- Yes. Mommy, it's us.

You're not alone.

No, I'm with Valérie.

- Right.
- Well, that's nice.

- I'll open the door.
- Okay, see you soon.

Hello, Mommy.

- Hello.
- How are you?

Well, come in.

Hello, Brigitte.

Hello, Valérie.

- Are those for me?
- They are from Jean-Louis.

- It's too much.
- Not at all.

- It smells of soup. Depressing.
- Stop it.

Sit down.

It was so sudden.
I couldn't prepare anything.

So?

Why did you come?

You haven't called for four years.

Come on, mom. I've called you.

- When?
- Many times.

You're never home.

- You should've left a voicemail message.
- It's engaged when you're home.

- Yes?
- Yes. Always engaged.

How do your friends reach you?

Still, four years without a word.

The last time we met...

I can't remember.

It's true that Valérie is older than you,

but you only have one mom.

Mommy, what matters is we see each other.

- Yes.
- We're meeting now.

- Yes.
- There you go.

So?

What can I do for you, dear?

- I'm not expecting anyone.
- Surprise. I'll get it.

Hello? Yes.
I'll open the door. Third floor.

It's only five years.

- Sorry?
- Your son and I. A five year age gap.

I know. Why do you say that?

Because of what you've just said.

I don't understand.

Hm. Never mind.

- Sorry?
- It's no big deal.

You'll find it funny, Mommy.

Really?

Come. Come. Come.

Look at that!

Hello.

You remember Michel?

- No.
- Michel Verdoux.

We were in middle school together.
He's a vet now.

Michel Verdoux.

Yes, I remember.

Michel wanted to see you.

That's right.

Very much so.

Oh, that's moving, isn't it?

- Right, Brigitte?
- Yeah.

It is.

Yes.

Why did you want to see me?

Because it's Michel's birthday.

- Is that so?
- He's turning 42 today.

Happy birthday, then.

Thanks.

When I asked him what he wanted,

guess what he said?

I don't know.

He said, "I'd love to see your mom."

- Really?
- Yes, that's right.

- I said that.
- Yes.

Eh...

Why did you want to see me?

Because I like you.

Thank you.

- I have very fond memories of you.
- That's good.

I need the bathroom.

- Jean-Louis, I...
- I'll show you where.

Don't just stand there.

Thanks.

And you?

Are you well?

Very well, thanks.

You've prepared some food.

Oh, not really.

It's just tarama.

The tarama.

No, in Greece, they just say tarama.

I don't think so.

Yes.

Okay.

Are you hurting anywhere?

No.

Uh, my back aches a bit
when I get up in the morning.

Ah...

Right.

Your back aches.

- Uh, a bit in the morning.
- Don't take it lightly.

It's no problem. I get up, it goes away.

Did you know that most back issues
have gynecological causes?

Is that so?

- Yes.
- But you...

- Are you a doctor?
- Gynecologist.

Jean-Louis said you were a vet.

I'm a vet and a gynecologist.

Do you mean an animal gynecologist?

That's it.

- Does that exist?
- Of course.

- I'll examine you.
- I'm sorry?

- I will examine you.
- No, thank you. No.

- You should.
- I don't feel like it.

Me neither. It's for your back.

- Come on. Show me everything.
- Show you what?

We'll do a check up. Undress.

- Here in front of you?
- It's my job.

But I'm embarrassed.

Don't be embarrassed. I'm a vet.

That's sweet, but I'd be embarrassed
to have you touch me.

I'll scrape, I won't touch.

A quick smear test.
It'll take two minutes.

Please don't insist.

Please undress.

- Stop it. I don't want to.
- Undress.

No, but... Jean-Louis!
Jean-Louis! Jean-Louis!

Jean-Louis! Jean-Louis! Jean-Louis!

But are you out of your mind!
Let me go, you maniac!

Help!

Are you Okay, Mom?

That man is crazy.

That man is crazy.

- What happened?
- Your friend is mad. He attacked me.

Really? I'm sorry.

He wants to give me a smear test
because he's a vet?

Have you had one recently?

- Not the point.
- Any back pain?

Stop it now! Have you lost it?

It's no big deal. He meant well.

He attacked me!

Why did you bring him here?

Let me compose myself.
Then we'll have lunch.

- No, it's a done deal.
- You're right.

Never mind, Mommy.

No problem. You should rest.

I was so happy to see you again.

I'm sorry, Jean-Louis.

No, we're sorry.

It's fine, don't worry.
We'll find another way.

How do you mean?

Don't worry, Mom. Okay, get some rest.

Take care.

I'll have a nap. That upset me.

- Of course!
- Sure.

- Okay. Have some rest. I'm sorry.
- Bye.

- Bye, Brigitte.
- Bye, Jean-Louis.

Bye. Take care.

- I feel guilty.
- Really? Why?

I don't know.

Ah.

What an idiot.

- So?
- So? She's shocked.

- Yeah?
- Well, of course.

- She's out of it now.
- I'm sorry.

- No big deal.
- Yes, it's a big deal.

- I said it's no big deal.
- Yes. Listen.

It's my best friend's life.

What are you doing now?

I'll go home. Sorry. I did what I could.

No problem. We'll find a way.

- How about the hospital?
- We're past that, Michel.

- I'll get you a car.
- We got off on the wrong foot.

Should've agreed about the tarama.
She turned on me.

- Think so?
- She clammed up.

Karine with a black Lexus.
DT930DY in 27 minutes.

In 27 minutes?

Private hybrid cars. They're rare.

- Okay, it's fine. I'll wait. Thanks.
- Okay. Bye.

- Okay.
- Yeah.

- We'll be in touch. Bye.
- Uh, uh...

- Bye, then.
- Bye.

Another nightmare?

Mommy.

DAY TWO

What are you doing?

You really think Margaux is an idiot?

- She sees everything.
- Look.

That one or that one?

I don't know what to say. Both are good.

Huh.

Maybe that one. Zoom in.

- I'd have said that one.
- No.

This one.

Hm.

That one looks older.

But that one looks
more like your mother. No?

- Maybe, yeah.
- Come on. It does.

- Really?
- These colors suit her better.

- Yeah, yeah.
- Yes. Don't they?

That's absolutely her tone.

- Or I can't see clearly.
- Okay, that one.

She said no to digital, you know.

- What about a Polaroid of yours?
- She'll notice the difference.

- You think?
- Really? Thanks for that.

Okay. Let's use that one. It'll be fine.

You shouldn't cheat with Margaux.

I don't have her damn picture.
What am I to do?

Can you do it, please?

- Hello, miss.
- Hello.

Sorry, does the machine not print
on photo paper?

No, I'll do it for you.

Uh...

- It's on a key.
- How many copies?

One's fine. That's enough.

- Hello, madam.
- Hello.

There's a few files on the key.
Which is it?

"Bordier Practice,"
"Accounts 2018," "Pussy"?

Uh, "Pussy."

- Sorry?
- "Pussy."

Have you lost it? Is it for a poster?

- Yes, that's it.
- Poor thing.

- Are you sure you just want one?
- Yes, yes.

It's on the house.

Thank you, that's sweet. Thanks a lot.

You're welcome.

Twenty eight euros.

Yes, right.

- I don't have change for a 50.
- Doesn't matter.

- Thanks a lot. Bye. Bye, madam.
- Madam.

Your mom is German.

Sorry?

Is your mom German?

- Her personality?
- No.

Her nationality.

Yes, she was born in Düsseldorf.

No, she was born in...

Fechenheim.

Yes, right. It's close to Düsseldorf.

No. 200 kilometers.

That's what I call close.

The highway. They drive fast in Germany.

She had you late.

Yes.

How old are you?

- What?
- How old are you?

- Yes.
- How old?

Why are you asking?

- You don't know how old you are?
- I know.

I'm 42 years old.

So, when you were born, your mom was...

61.

Well, yes. Why?

This vagina belongs to
a 103-year-old woman.

- She's German.
- Stop it, Jean-Louis.

- Thanks, Valérie.
- You're welcome.

Your life is in a python's belly.

How can the python throw you up?

I'm asking you to let truth in your life,
and what you end up with is...

Well, lies.

Since you know everything,
tell me the truth.

Truth is sought, not given.

- True.
- What's the link with Mom?

I can't do it.

She doesn't want to take her panties off.
I can't rip them off.

Where the heart's willing,
it'll find a way.

Where it's unwilling,
it'll find an excuse.

Fair.

- Lies are the easy way out.
- True.

- The easy way out?
- Yes.

You think that's easy?

Have you ever googled "old pussy"?
I was nauseous. That wasn't easy.

Nauseous? Do you have an issue
with the female genitals?

- Why?
- Stop insinuating things.

"Old dick" wouldn't make me happier.

Mr. Bordier.

You don't have faith in the Karunga.

I don't give a damn about it.

It doesn't exist. It's bullshit.

What am I doing here? Fuck!

Jean-Louis.

What have I done to deserve this? Fuck!

I don't even know if I'm alive or dead!
Am I in hell? Is that it?

Calm down, darling. Calm down.

Huh?

Stop.

Touch your heart.

It's beating.

- It's beating.
- Margaux, thanks!

Thank you!

- Margaux, thanks!
- It's just a respite.

I can't do anything else for now.

- No.
- No, no, no. You can't leave me like this.

You won't ask your mom
for what the Karunga needs.

I can do no more.

- We'll do it. Yes.
- We'll do it. I'll ask her.

That's good. Very good.

Jean-Louis?

Stop taking me for an idiot.

She's great, huh?

She's really great.

State a request.

Phone.

Contact list or dial in number.

Contact list.

State the contact's name.

Mommy.

This contact is not in your list.

State the contact's name.

Mommy.

- This contact is not...
- "Mom," not "mommy."

- Same thing.
- State the contact's name.

Mommy.

This contact isn't in your list.

- Mom.
- Calling Mom.

Hello.
You have reached the voicemail

of Brigitte Bordier.

I'm currently away.

Please leave a message,
your name and number,

as well as your reason for calling,

and I will be sure
to return your call once I'm back.

Please leave your message
after the audible beep,

and don't forget
to state your phone number

and your reason for calling.

Thank you. Talk to you soon.

Bye.

Mommy, it's me. It's Jean-Louis.

- Hello? Who is this?
- It's Jean-Louis.

- Who is this?
- Jean-Louis, your son.

Well, yes, I know.

- I was just leaving a message.
- I didn't get to listen to it.

No problem.

I'm sorry about yesterday.

What happened with Michel.

I hadn't expected
our reunion to turn out like that.

Exactly. We don't see each other much.
We need to move on.

Come have lunch at our house tomorrow.

I can't tomorrow.
I have a dentist appointment.

To change my bridge.

Shit. Make a different appointment.

No, that's not possible.

Tomorrow isn't good for me,
but I can do Sunday.

Sunday is too late.

No,
I need to talk about something important.

- Something important?
- Yes.

- You worry me.
- No, no.

I'd rather not talk on here.
I need to ask something.

Come have lunch tomorrow. 1:00 p.m.

Okay, fine. Tomorrow.
But 1 p.m. is a bit late for lunch.

Well, 12 p.m.

12:30 p.m.

- Okay. 12:30 p.m.
- All right.

See you tomorrow, Mommy.

- See you tomorrow.
- Take care.

- Yes, bye.
- Bye.

Hello? Yes, Mommy.

I'll open the door.

- Good she came.
- Yeah.

Huh. That's something.

Yes?

Yes, I've opened.

No, there's no beep. It opens.

I'll press it again.

- It'll be fine.
- Yes, it'll be fine.

- What's wrong now?
- Yes?

Sorry, second floor.

Unbelievable!

Yes, Mommy?

Sorry. Yes, I hadn't pressed it.

- She's so annoying.
- She's 82.

Yes, that's what's annoying.

- Hello, Brigitte.
- Hello, Mommy.

- Nice to see you.
- What?

I said, "Nice to see you."

Yes, yes, me too. Me too.

- Come in. Come in.
- Here.

Are these for me?

Uh, that's so sweet.

Thank you, Brigitte. It means a lot.

It's a little smaller than yours.

It isn't a competition.

- Okay. I'll take your things.
- Yes, why not?

How did you get here?

Well, the 52 stops right outside.

That's good.

Is it raining?

No, no, no, no, no. It's for protection.

I was just at the hairdresser's.

It's a shame if it's not raining.

It's like Indian restaurants when they put
a plastic cover on the chairs.

- Shall we go in the living room?
- Yes.

No, not him.

I'd like to apologize, Mrs. Bordier.

I didn't mean to attack you.

I'm sorry for what happened.

- Listen...
- Okay, that's done.

Let's move on. Let's sit down. Come on.

I'm practically burning out.

Ah.

I'm under pressure at the clinic.
I can't switch off.

Let's not discuss it.

Sit down, Mommy.

We all work way too much.

Hm.

Would you like a drink?

- Yes, thank you.
- Sangria?

Uh...

- Okay.
- Okay then.

Uh...

- I'll sit next to you, Mommy.
- Yes.

Come here, darling.

What have you planned for Bastille Day?

Nothing.

- No?
- No.

You'll watch the parade?

Yes, probably.

Overseas territories
will be highlighted this year.

I heard that, yes.

It's nice to have
the overseas territories in the parade.

Yes.

The first time that a Guianese regiment
walks down the Champs-Élysées.

Yes, probably.

French Guiana is beautiful.

- Right, Michel?
- Yes, I love it.

Lots of forests, lots of...

Actually,
do they have tanks in French Guiana?

What?

Do they have tanks in French Guiana?
With so many forests?

I don't know.

Well, if there's an army, there are tanks.

Yes, probably.

- Likely.
- Of course.

An army without tanks
is like an army without machine guns.

- But...
- True. You're right.

That makes sense.

He's right.
The deterrent isn't so much the army.

It's the weapon.

Because, I mean,

you wouldn't be scared of a Guianese man
if you met him in the street.

But if you meet
a Guianese man with a tank...

- Well, yes.
- Sorry, but that's...

- Of course.
- That's something else.

- That's a deterrent. Right.
- It is.

Do you remember Tiananmen?

Uh...

That picture of the man
in front of a tank? What happened to him?

He was arrested
by the Secret Service. Right?

- Did they every find him?
- Here we go!

Ah.

What...

It's sangria. It's Spanish.

Yes, but why are you...

Why what?

Why are you all naked?

It's Neighbor Day.

Neighbors? Is there a party next door?

No, Mommy, all of the neighbors.

- It's every year.
- All over, in the whole of France.

No one takes off their clothes.

Of course they do.

- Not in my building.
- Sure, you live in the 15th.

This is a green district.

We recycle, eat organic and in season.
We undress for special occasions.

The neighbors are on their way.
You can't meet them like this.

- Neighbors?
- Of course.

- Naked?
- Sure. It's Neighbors Day.

- Here you go, Brigitte.
- Thank you.

- My darling.
- Thanks, love.

Well, to the neighbors!

To the neighbors!

To the neighbors.

- I'm going.
- Why?

I'm not going to undress.

Take off your clothes.
You'll feel less hot.

I'm not hot.

Okay. I've had enough.

- Where's my coat?
- Come on, Mommy.

Hang on, Brigitte.

You can't do that. You can't leave now.

Have more sangria.

I want to go now, okay?

Sorry, accident.

But...

Your dress. I'll soak it.

Give me a sponge and warm water.

Don't waste time
if you want the stain off.

I'll do it. Some water, a sponge.

You need to soak it.

- I'm telling you I'll do it.
- Listen.

I made a mistake.
I feel bad. I want to put it right.

Give me your dress. I'll soak it.

Let go of me, dammit!

I've invited you into my home.

I bend over backwards to make you happy,
organize a nice time with your son.

Try harder, dammit.

Let go of me!

I said, let go of me!

Dammit!

What is this? Who do you think you are?

What's going on with her?

Nothing. She wants to help you.
Trust her. Give her your dress.

Enough of this messing about.

Give it. She'll remove the stain.

Come on. It'll be fine.

What are you doing?

I'll clean up my dress.

- I can't believe this!
- I'm out of here.

- What are you doing?
- I'm out.

No. I'll stay dead.

- I like being alive.
- You can't let him down.

We'll never do it.

- Sure we will.
- Yes.

I can't take the photo.
Am I to live with that trauma?

- Valérie?
- What, Valérie?

Why not you? You're a woman.

She'd never. On our wedding day,
she said, "I won't go if she's there."

Don't leave me inside the python.

- What?
- You're a vet. You know pythons.

You're really getting on my nerves.

- It's not my problem.
- Of course it is.

Do it for yourself, to succeed.
Stop failing.

What did I fail?

Everything.

You failed everything.

- Your driving test, med school.
- Your marriage.

My mother yesterday. Everything.

- Everything.
- Stop failing.

Succeed in something for once.
Stop failing.

What a lunatic.

She's a crazy lunatic.

Families are complicated.

What?

I said,
"Family issues are always complicated."

She's a crazy lunatic.

Where are they?

They went to tell the neighbors
you dislike Neighbor Day

and lunch is canceled.

I don't dislike it.

- I won't be naked in front of strangers.
- No big deal.

The four of us will have lunch.
It'll be fun.

No way.

I won't stay in this crazy house
any longer.

It's locked?

- Why did they lock us in?
- Not sure.

I mean, it's insane.

Must've locked it out of habit.
Happened to me once.

I locked in my maid for two days.

Insane.

They'll be back soon. Don't worry.

So.

Let's sit down while we wait.

Come on.

Fancy some tabbouleh?

The tabbouleh.

Some tabbouleh.

No, people say, "the tabbouleh."

That's right.

You're right.

Not hungry. Thanks.

Do you take photos?

Yes, well...

- What kind?
- Sorry?

What kind of photos?

Erotic.

Risqué photos?

That's it.

Yes, naked women.

- Yes, mostly.
- Just my luck.

It's art. They're artistic photos.

Artistic photos with a Polaroid.

Yes. One copy only.

The collectors love it.

It gives it a vintage look.
Like a family picture.

Naked photos like a family picture?

That's it.

Do you exhibit in a gallery?

- Of course.
- Where?

- Sorry?
- Where do you exhibit?

In Algeria.

- Really? But...
- Yeah.

Are they not shocked by the photos?

- Not at all.
- I mean...

They're religious. With Islamism's growth...

Yes, but actually, no. You see...

There are two Algerias. A stern Algeria,

traditional, southern Algeria,
the mullahs' Algeria.

But there's a free Algeria.

Algeria...

Uh...

The convertible, parties, poppers.

- What?
- Night clubs.

Algeria... You see...

- Beaches.
- That's right. Beaches.

A daring Algeria.

Still, erotic photos.

Attraction is universal.

Especially for women.

You, for instance.

What?

You're attractive.

Really?

You're beautiful.

Sorry?

I'd love to take a picture of you. Naked.

Let's try. Take off your dress.

- For art.
- No, not again.

I never photograph anyone
against their will.

I'm a vet, not a paparazzo.

Leave me in peace. Peace!

Huh?

- Can I tell you something?
- No.

I'd like to be left alone.

Leave me alone, please.

I'd like to tell you
something very personal.

No.

It started when...

when I was a child.

I was nine or ten.

You were different from the other moms.

I'd dream about you.

I'd fantasize about you so much
that I wasn't attracted to girls my age.

I've always loved you, Brigitte.

I still love you.

I'm sorry.

You forgive me?

Of course.

I love you, Brigitte. I want to kiss you.

You could be my son.

- I want you.
- Shut up.

No, I won't.

I've been doing that for 30 years.
Are you free?

That's not the point.

Not a guy?

- That's not it, but...
- I want to kiss you.

Don't say that.

Is he going to fuck her?

Not on my Berber carpet.

This is insane.

This is all over for me.

- I want you.
- Stop, Michel, stop.

Stop, Michel.

You turn me on.

Move your hands.

- Huh?
- Move your hands.

- Remove this.
- Please.

Please.

Please.

- Take off this dress.
- No, not now. Not now.

Yes. Life is so short. Especially yours.

Please. Michel, stop.

Stop. Stop.

- Not here.
- Who cares where?

Is everything okay?

Dammit, I'm working! Fuck!

People are at work!

- Sorry.
- No "sorry," okay?

It was a genius move!

Take it easy, Michel.

No, I won't!

I'm not a failure! I'm not a failure!

No, you're not.

People get in the way
whenever I do something good!

I'm not a failure! I'm not a failure!

There!

Who said you were a failure?

- Well...
- What's going on?

What? What are you doing?

Trying to take a picture of her.

Are you not enjoying this?

I don't want to take naked photos.

Why not if done well?

- No.
- We'd have a memory of you.

He tried to rape me.

But... No.

Is that true?

- Are you joking?
- You're sick. Attacking a helpless woman.

I'd forgiven you again,
and you attack my mom?

You psycho.

Hang on, wait.

- You're crazy.
- Are you kidding?

Get out of here! Go! Unbelievable.

Don't worry.
You're not a failure.

I never should've asked you.

Don't come back!
Get out of here!

Wait in the kitchen.

- What?
- Go on.

Really? Have you gone mad?

Did you provoke him? Did you tease him?

Not at all.

Right.

I'm sorry.

Your friend is a lunatic.

He needs help. Can't have people over
with this barbarian.

I'll be careful. Sorry.

- Bye.
- Are you not staying for lunch?

No, I'm exhausted.

Uh...

I'd like you to stay. Please, Mommy.

I'd like to go home now.

- I need to ask you something.
- It seems important.

You've asked me for lunch
once in 15 years.

Last time, you were getting married.

What's wrong this time?

It's...

I need...

Why did you bring this guy back?

A vet.

I know.

Your sister told you.

Told me what?

- About Titi.
- Titi? What are you talking about?

I didn't mean to hurt him.
He wouldn't sing.

I read in Reader's Digest that
blind canaries sang better than others

so I took a sewing needle,
warmed it up over the gas.

I wanted to avoid an infection.
Poor thing.

I punctured his eyes.

There was a small "plop,"

as though piercing
a salmon egg with a knife.

I must've pushed it in too far.

He started to shake,
and he died in my hand.

He didn't fly away
to meet its canary family?

No.

You killed him. You killed Titi.

You don't say.

I've felt guilty
and sorry about it for 40 years.

I apologize.

I'm stunned.

How did you know about it?

I didn't.

- What did you want to discuss?
- Well, I...

Valentine?

What, Valentine?

I'm so ashamed of what I've done.

What did you do?

It's unforgivable, but let me explain.

I'd so feel awkward at her parents' place.

They had the three of us over for lunch,
with your dad.

That lunch was like a trial.

A verdict
on whether our family was their match.

Make sure you were good enough.

Their house, their tableware,
the way they talked,

their table manners... We were doomed.

What do you think about it?

Brigitte?

Sorry?

What do you think about
the Louvre pyramid?

The pyramid.

Uh...

Where's the bathroom?

On your left out of the living room.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

You didn't?

Not sure what came over me.

I was possessed.

I felt bad right away,
but it was too late.

- The shame.
- Of course I'm ashamed.

But what could I do?

- I wasn't gonna say it was me.
- They guessed.

She left me the next day. No explanation.

Was I to send flowers, say sorry?

Yes, actually.

I loved them.
Great people. Very open.

- Not stuck-up. Very modern.
- Modern in a castle.

That's idiotic.

- Valérie.
- Enough. You can't understand.

Different backgrounds.
I wasn't rolling in it.

Looks like you made up for it.

- Valérie.
- What?

Does everything have to do with money?
You can't condemn richer people.

I said sorry.

It worked in your favor.
He might have married Valentine.

Not sure I came out on top.

What an idiot.

- Are you mad?
- She's your mom.

- That doesn't make her smart.
- Hey!

Can I have a bit of space to myself
to react to what's affecting me?

Affecting you but moving me.

- Excuse my empathy.
- Is your empathy helpful?

Happy? You took a shit in the bed,
he shouts at me.

- You don't say.
- Say what?

You don't say, as in
the old woman is quite something.

Did you see her?

Who?

Valentine? You saw her recently?

No.

But when did you learn about what I did?

I didn't know.

What did you want to tell me?

I don't feel good. I need some water.

Of course, my dear.
I feel so bad.

How are you feeling?

- I need to smoke.
- That's not the best answer.

Stop trying to decide for me.

Sorry, sweetheart.

Go on, smoke.
Smoke if it makes you feel better.

Who is this woman?
Who is this woman?

I don't want to see her,
hear from her or her voice.

You gotta go back.
Think of the photo. Think of Margaux.

- No, I can't do it.
- Yes.

- You have to.
- I have an idea.

Um...

Take her some water.

Put this in.

Uh-huh.

Mix it in with water.

It's a horse anesthetic.
It'd put a horse to sleep.

Does it have a taste?

I have no idea.

No, it's fine, no taste.
Dammit, fuck! I'm stupid!

Dammit!

I finished the vial.

God dammit.

What an idiot, dammit.

There's no more.

I'm so ashamed.

Talk to me, son.

Okay.

Are you ill, is that it?

Because I wouldn't be able to handle that.

It's abnormal to inflict that upon a mom.

Shut up, please.

I need to ask you
the hardest thing one could ask one's mom.

It's...

It's about my birth.

How shall I say it?

About my origin.

My God.

You know about Mr. Gillet.

What?

My life is a curse.

- I'm cursed.
- What about Mr. Gillet?

- Once. I slept with him once. Just once.
- Hang on.

You slept with Mr. Gillet?

- Of course. You're his.
- Huh?

But I love you.

Your father loved you too.

He loved you as though you were his.

Of course, at first, we suffered.

We thought of you as a bastard.

It was hard for us
to see you hang around the house.

And we loved your sister so much.

It took us a while to accept you.

You turned up in our family, uninvited.

Please understand us.

That's why I'd never hold you.

I couldn't kiss you.

I was disgusted by that damn Gillet,
not you.

That asshole, that swine, that prick.

Sorry, I shouldn't say that.
He's your dad.

But that guy is a pig.

He screwed me once and cleared off!

Imagine how I suffered.

Imagine what I went through
because of you.

It'd be too easy to judge me now.

You can't condemn others like that.

But when you got your high school diploma,
I swear,

I really do swear,

you father said...

I mean, my husband said,

"I like that kid actually."

He said it. I swear he did.

And I love you too.

Believe me.
I love you almost as much as your sister.

I promise you.

I forgave you, and I love you.

Mr. Gillet?

I knew it.

I knew that one day
you'd hold me accountable.

Now,

it's paid.

It's paid.

We'll start all over, both of us, right?

We'll build a nice relationship
on a good foundation.

On solid ground.

Don't move, Mommy.

Why?

There are things one must do in peace.

Okay.

Michel.

No, I don't want to see him anymore!

I must do something I won't enjoy.

What?

A photo of your genitals.

Sorry?

A photo of your genitals.

Is it for Algeria?

No, for me. No choice.

Valérie, what's going on?

He wants to live, Brigitte.

Are you mad? Are you on drugs?

Shut up, Mommy!

No! No, no, no! No!

You want your revenge?
You want to humiliate me?

Is that it? You hate me?

- Her panties.
- It's slippery.

- Her pantyhose.
- There's none.

- On top of the panties.
- I know the order.

What's wrong?

Brigitte?

- Brigitte?
- Mommy?

Madam, you okay?

No, no, no, no.
Stop this right now, Brigitte.

I don't agree with this.

- Not at all.
- Madam?

Her heart has stopped. She looks dead.

- Are you okay?
- I don't feel well.

- What's going on?
- I feel dizzy.

- My heart is fluttering.
- Your heart?

It's started.

- It's started!
- It's beating! It's beating!

My darling!

It started! It started!

We got her back, but it was close.

We're going to the hospital.
You can follow in a car.

I'll go in a few days.

It's a little fresh.

I'd rather take my time.

Her panties and pantyhose.
They were on the floor.

Really?

- Is your friend okay?
- Yes, yes, yes, don't worry.

He took too many sedatives
to get over the shock.

- He's close to my mother-in-law.
- Good. We're taking her down.

Do you think we'll start up again too?

I don't know.

Hm...

You'd like to?

I think so.

Why not have a child?
Might've been what we were missing.

Sorry, love,
don't you think it's a bit late?

No way.
Lots of men become fathers at your age.

A kid, okay.
Not sure about living with a mother.

Of course. That's more complicated.

- Thanks for being there for me.
- I'd do the same if it happened again.

Jean-Louis!

Sweetheart!

♪ Funny how a lonely day ♪

♪ Can make a person say ♪

♪ What good is my life? ♪

♪ Funny how a breaking heart ♪

♪ Can make me start to say ♪

♪ What good is my life? ♪

♪ Funny how I often seem ♪

♪ To think I'll find another dream ♪

♪ In my life ♪

♪ Till I look around and see ♪

♪ This great big world is part of me ♪

♪ And my life ♪

♪ This is my life ♪

♪ Today, tomorrow,
Love will come and find me ♪

♪ But that's the way
That I was born to be ♪

♪ This is me ♪

♪ This is me ♪

♪ This is my life ♪

♪ And I don't give a damn
For lost emotions ♪

♪ I've such a lot of love
I've got to give ♪

♪ Let me live ♪

♪ Let me live ♪

♪ Sometime when I feel afraid ♪

♪ I think of what a mess ♪

♪ I've made of my life ♪

♪ Crying over my mistakes ♪

♪ Forgetting all the breaks ♪

♪ I've had in my life ♪

♪ I was put on earth to be ♪

♪ A part of this great world is me ♪

♪ And my life ♪

♪ Guess I'll just add up the score ♪

♪ And count the things I'm grateful for ♪

♪ In my life ♪

♪ This is my life ♪

♪ Today, tomorrow,
Love will come and find me ♪

♪ But that's the way
That I was born to be ♪

♪ This is me ♪

♪ This is me ♪

♪ This is my life ♪

♪ And I don't give a damn
For lost emotions ♪

♪ I've such a lot of love
I've got to give ♪

♪ Let me live ♪

♪ Let me live ♪

♪ This is my life ♪

♪ This is my life ♪

♪ This is my life ♪