Clopin Clopant - Barbra Streisand
In France when one is walking sadly
They say he walks
His step is slow,
His fault is badly
Perhaps the one he loves is gone
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
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
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?
Clopin Clopant, Clopin Clopant...
Written by B. Coquatrix, P. Dudan & K. Goell