In my father’s car
When I was just a kid
We’d cruise around, slowly
But not with the parking brake on
As a child, behind the window
I’d watch nature passing by
I already loved playing around
Wave to other cars
Wave to other cars
And then, we’d play the license-plate game
To learn the French departments
Now, I know that 24
Is the Dordogne, of course
Thanks to my mother’s memories
In my father’s car
Thanks to my mother’s memories
In my father’s car
In my father’s car
In my father’s car
On our way to our holidays
We’d argue endlessly in the backseat
To choose the radio frequency
But we would always agree
On a bit of Brel, a bit of Jean Ferrat
Our old valuable tapes
Society, you won’t get them
Society, you won’t get them
And we’d sing at the top of our lungs
The poetry of famous authors
And maybe that was our best game
Singing them all by heart
Like silly people, between brothers
In my father’s car
Like silly people, between brothers
In my father’s car
In my father's car
In my father’s car
We’d drive miles
And then, during winter, we’d write
In the mist on the windows
And when my tennis racket
Would become the finest guitar
I’d act like Jimi Hendrix
I thought I was a rockstar
I thought I was a rockstar
In my father’s car
Since I’m not really a kid anymore
He drives a little more slowly
He lost his touch
He realizes that the time
We’re saving by driving faster
He’s paying it in full
Because he gets more miles per gallon
Because he gets more miles per gallon
To raise my child
The day my Clau will agree to conceive one
I’ll buckle him in to his car seat
And I’ll drive him on the roads
To play hooky
In my father’s car
To play hooky
In my father's car
In his grand-father’s car
In my father’s car
In my father’s car