• Daniel Guichard

    English translation

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My old man

In his old, threadbare overcoat
He would go off, in summer, in winter
In the little, cold morning
My old man
 
There was only one Sunday a week
The rest of the week, he would work
To earn money like he could
My old man
 
In summer, we would go to the sea
You know, it wasn't misery
It wasn't paradise either
But oh well
 
In his old, threadbare overcoat
Several years long he took
The same suburb bus
My old man
 
In the evening, as he'd come back from work
He would sit down without saying a word
He was the silent type
My old man
 
Every Sunday was monotonous
We never had any guests
But he wasn't sad about it
I guess, my old man
 
In his old, threadbare overcoat
On paydays, when he'd come back home
We could hear him shouting a little
My old man
 
To us, it was always the same old song
He'd ramble on about everything—rich people, bosses
The left wing, the right wing, even God
That was my old man
 
We didn't have TV at home
Instead, I'd go out for a walk
For a few hours, to take my mind off things
That's dumb, ya know!
 
To think I spent several years
Next to him without ever giving him a look
We barely opened our eyes
The two of us
 
It wasn't very clever of me 'cause I could
Have walked with him to the bus stop
Perhaps he would've liked it
My old man
 
But when you're just fifteen
Your heart isn't big enough
To hold all those things in
You see
 
Now that he's far from here
When I remember all this, I think to myself
'I wish he were by my side right now'
DAD...
 
French
Original lyrics

Mon vieux

Click to see the original lyrics (French)

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