In the garden of my childhood
Between the trees and the violence
Strawberries, the smell of vacation
Between the dramas and the carefree
Why do I still think about it
Besides the laughter in farandole
Besides the summer that comforts me
Why do I still think about it so much
On the roofs of southern France
Why do I still think about it
Besides the laughter in farandole
Besides the summer that comforts me
Why do I still think about it so much