| It isn’t by chance I happen to be a boulevardier, the toast of Paree
|
| For over the noise, the talk and the smoke, I’m good for a laugh,
|
| a drink or a joke
|
| I walk in a room, a party of all, come sit over here, somebody will call
|
| A drink for monsieur, a drink for us all, but how many times, I sat and recall
|
| Are the apple trees, blossoms in the breeze that we walk among
|
| Lying in the hay, games we used to play, while the rounds were sung
|
| Only yesterday when the world was young
|
| Wherever I go they mention my name, and that in itself is some sort of fame
|
| Come by for a drink, we’re having a game, wherever I go, I’m glad that I came
|
| The talk is quite gay, the company’s fine
|
| There’s laughter and lights and glamour and wine
|
| And beautiful girls and summer’s been mine, but often my eyes see a different
|
| shine
|
| Are the apple trees, sunlit memories, where the hammock swung
|
| On our backs sweet lie, looking at the sky, till the stars were strung
|
| Only last July when the world was young |