Jean the lorry driver drives on the road.
There are trees, there are fields,
The rain which falls in large drops,
There are turns, there is the breeze.
There is the cold and the sun.
There is the day, there is the night
And the weariness, and the sleep
And the ten-ton truck, it's loud
...But there is also at the house
His little Martine and her song.
"Jean comes back from his tour".
Sings Martine in her kitchen.
"He'll surely be tired, he'll be worn out
But I'll be able to watch him
And embrace him while he eats
And look after him, cuddle him
And hold myself to his chest.
Later when he'll fall asleep
Me, I'll be in his arms..."
There is fog at her window.
Martine waits... the doorbell rang
It's a man with a letter.
He seems gloomy and dismayed.
"The Company... condolences...
An accident... You need to sign here...
There are the funeral arrangements and insurance policy..."
However Martine doesn't understand
It isn't true... She doesn't believe it.
In five minutes he will be there...
"Jean comes back from his tour".
Sings Martine in her kitchen.
"He'll surely be tired, he'll be worn out
But I'll be able to watch him
And embrace him while he eats
And look after him, cuddle him
And hold myself to his chest
Later when he'll fall asleep
No! No! NON!
Jean... Jean...
Oh! Jean!"