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 there go I      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