La tire à Dédé [English translation]

Her wheels were bent, a bit like my legs.

She had two white stripes on her roof and bonnet,

a fake wood wheel, genuine leatherette seats,

a horn that played "The Colonel Bogey March".

Dédé had her painted metallic blue, he said

that reminded him of his homeland's skies.

We never knew for sure where he was born,

since he was such a liar, like all those of his kind.

In Dédé's ride,

I went on so many rides.

When I recall these,

I'm kind of bored on my moped.

On the rear windshield, a sticker went

"Go, go, St Étienne"1, and in front

was written in white on azure blue

"Go skiing in Val D'Isère and breathe in some fresh air"

She guzzled about as much fuel as Dédé quaffed beer,

now the guy sure could hold his drink.

When we raced the Sébastopol blvd2 at 140 mph

the coppers had a hard time

catching us.

When Dédé was plastered, though I have no

driver licence, I held the wheel. I went only

through one-way streets to shake off the cops,

still I fastened my seat belt. Well, I'm not that crazy.

We gave a ride to chicks hanging out in the suburbs,

who were only too happy to have fun with us:

"Come on girls, hop in; let's go for a ride".

5 miles later the car conveniently

went out of gas3

In Dédé's ride,

I went on so many rides.

When I recall these,

I'm kind of bored on my moped.

Now one night, some riffraff, real sons of bitches,

broke into Dédé's garage while he was asleep.

They snatched his horn and car radio,

his Mike Brant cassettes and stainless steel rims.

The next morning, Dédé, seeing the disaster,

though he was solid as a rock4,

went down with that coronary they talk about in the papers,

and kicked the bucket, all alone in the early morning.

In Dédé's ride,

I went on so many rides.

When I recall these,

I'm kind of bored on my moped.

The poor Dédé rests in Pantin5's cemetary now.

We had two white stripes painted on his grave, that's cool.

His car decays quietly in the back of the garden

of a suburban house, near the railroad track.

Hens nested in the disemboweled seats,

rust ate everything, the paint and the chrome plating.

Kids smashed the windshield and the lights.

Soon there'll be nothing left of Dédé's ride.

In Dédé's ride,

I went on so many rides.

When I recall these,

I'm kind of bored on my moped.

I'm kind of bored on my moped.

1. Saint Etienne's soccer team and their green shirts were heroes of the late 70's2. A boulevard running from the center of Paris to the north3. "faire le coup de la panne (d'essence)" is a cliché seducer's trick, pretending your car broke down or ran out of gas in the middle of nowhere4. lit. "he was as healthy as a member of the French Academy"5. A northern suburb of Paris

• Artist:Renaud