Il roule [Les fleurs du bal] [English translation]

His heart is bleak

And without reason

Five hours later

He leaves the house

He gets going

Leaves without reason

Beckoned by

The horizon

Perhaps love

Perhaps life

The death of the day

Or just boredom

To leave in the night

To go like that

This need

Everyone has that

Larmor-Baden

Guingamp

Outside the black of the plains

And then black inside

He leaves he leaves

Like he had somewhere to go

Leaving there - in the hall

On the sun scatters

The flowers from the ball

In the road is his motor

He gets going

His throttle

The consolation

The guitars play loud

In his cockpit

They are his comfort

Amniotic

He rolls he rolls

Like the tears that flow

Leaving there in the hall

On the sun scatters

The flowers from the ball

To leave in the night

To go like that

This need

This need

Everyone has that

He rolls he rolls

In the wind and the stars

Back there - in the hallway

On the sun scatters

The flowers from the ball