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