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...
