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...