Lyrics: Paul Jacobi
Music: Jérôme Klusacek/Paul Jacobi
This whole year was full of running
Full of thunders in my mind
So much drama in the city, which is never really sleeping
Full of strangers passing by
Oh, I can't wait to drive
With you through all these good old country lanes
And I can't wait to hide
With you in our wooden favorite place, for our winter getaway
If our vibe is doing nothing
Then we'll stay in bed all day
I'll lay my head down on your shoulders
And you'll read me trashy novels, while the candles melt away
Oh, I can't wait to drive
With you through all these good old country lanes
And I can't wait to hide
With you in our wooden favorite place, for our winter getaway
For our winter getaway