Hit the Road
Isabelle CASIER
Come on, get in my old car
Take your drums and guitars
It seems I can drive until the end of time
We all have things to escape, I won’t ask about yours,
Though we can talk it out
Until the end of the night
Hit the road before they catch us
And then cut our wings
I’m not that tough
It’s not too late to be young
In spite of what they say
Our parents act like children
So why can’t we do the same?
I never thought I would age here, between rivers and trees,
Still living on the ashes of 1917
Hit the road before they catch us
And then cut our wings
I’m not that tough
So we’ll sing to the flute and we’ll dance to the drums
Until everybody’s drunk or dead