An old shoebox on top of a shelf
Asleep against a wall, a small layer of dust
I blow on it a bit and open the treasure
Of my lost childhood that I still seek
There's this yellowed photo that jumps out at me
The one where my mother smiles and doesn't look her age
She couldn't have guessed everything that's happening today
I wish I could bring her back into that yellowed photo

An old shoebox, size 38 sneakers
The kind that climb walls and run really fast
I've stored memories by the shovelful in their place
There in this class photo, I was wearing suspenders

I find among the lot a birthday card
And I recognize the familiar handwriting on the back
Just the right amount of modesty, see you soon I hope
These are the last words I read from my grandfather

An old shoebox, fragments of the past
A breakup letter I can't forget
My very first love, she had light eyes
It was as simple as hello, the couple's life in primary school
Digging a bit deeper, there's this cancer diagnosis
The origin of the virus, the reasons for the anger
A half-erased movie ticket
Like the sometimes faded memory of overwhelmed parents

An old shoebox, the card of an old friend
Smiles, wounds, the cat that left
Here the image is joyful, we are the four siblings
The Daltons of the Creuse as my cousin used to say
This old shoebox doesn't make us any younger
That's what my dad's mom would surely have said
I imagine her telling me
"Close this box, kid, and go fill it up
You only have one life"

I imagine her telling me
"Close this box, kid, and go fill it up
You only have one life"

CONSULTER LES PAROLES ORIGINALES