I'm talking to you about a time
That those under twenty
Cannot know
Montmartre at that time
Hung its lilacs
Right under our windows
And if the humble lodging
That served as our nest
Was not impressive
It's there that we met
Me who was starving
And you who posed naked

The bohemian life, the bohemian life
It meant
We are happy
The bohemian life, the bohemian life
We only ate every other day

In the neighboring cafes
We were a few
Who were waiting for glory
And although poor
With empty stomachs
We never stopped believing
And when some bistro
Against a good hot meal
Took one of our paintings
We recited verses
Grouped around the stove
Forgetting the winter

The bohemian life, the bohemian life
It meant
We are happy
The bohemian life, the bohemian life
We only ate every other day

Often it happened to me
In front of my easel
To spend sleepless nights
Retouching the drawing
Of the line of a breast
Of the curve of a hip
And it's only in the morning
That we finally sat down
In front of a cream coffee
Exhausted but delighted
We had to love each other
And love life

The bohemian life, the bohemian life
It meant
You are pretty
The bohemian life, the bohemian life
And we all had genius
The bohemian life, the bohemian life
It meant
We are happy
The bohemian life, the bohemian life
We only ate every other day

When by chance of the days
I go for a walk
To my old address
I no longer recognize
Neither the walls, nor the streets
That saw my youth
At the top of a staircase
I look for the workshop
Of which nothing remains
In its new decor
Montmartre seems sad
And the lilacs are dead

The bohemian life, the bohemian life
It meant
We are happy
The bohemian life, the bohemian life
We only ate every other day
The bohemian life, the bohemian life
We were young
We were crazy
The bohemian life, the bohemian life
It doesn't mean anything anymore.

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