Dans la bagnole de mon père [English translation]

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