Children of the parks, little boys of the beaches
The wind threatens the sandcastles built by my fingers
Alas, time spares no one
The years go by, the echoes flee along the Pyla Dune

To the rhythm of the seasons, the photo booths
I give myself up to these glows from another time
To the rhythm of the seasons, the decisions, I give myself up

When the memories start to butt in, then come the tears
And the sirens' chant plunges me back into the winter
Oh, cruel melancholy, slender melody, solitary euphoria

Tadalalala, tadalalala
Tadalalala, tadalala

How many jokes, how many escapades
How many traces, how many masks
Have we left up there?
Put down our weapons, make a run for it
Find the calm in this cacophony before I drown in it

To the rhythm of the seasons, the photo booths
I give myself up to these glows from another time
To the rhythm of the seasons, the decisions, I give myself up

When the memories start to butt in, then come the tears
And the sirens' chant plunges me back into the winter
Oh, cruel melancholy, slender melody, solitary euphoria

Oh-oh

When the memories start to butt in, then come the tears
And the sirens' chant plunges me back into the winter
Oh, cruel melancholy, slender melody, solitary euphoria

When the memories start to butt in, then come the tears
And the sirens' chant plunges me back into the winter
Oh, cruel melancholy, slender melody, solitary euphoria

Tadalalala, tadalalala
Tadalalala, tadalala

Tadalalala, tadalalala
Tadalalala, tadalala

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