CLOPIN CLOPANT
Barbra Streisand - 1966


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...