In France when one is walking sadly
They say he walks Clopin-Clopant
His step is slow, his fault is badly
Perhaps the one he loves is gone
Clopin-Clopant I hear his footsteps
As in the night he passes by
And as I hear his endless footsteps
I get to thinking they'll go out
I'll go along Clopin-Clopant
Whispering he's gone, he is gone, he is gone
My childish heart cries like a baby
Without my love what will each day be ?
So I go on Clopin-Clopant
Trudging alone Clopin-Clopant
Love is a dance and one must learn it
I had my chance, why did I spurn it ?
What can I do ? Why carry on ?
Going alone Clopin-Clopant, Clopin-Clopant, Clopin-Clopant...

IMPRIMER LES PAROLES