hobble along

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 theyll go out

Ill go along clopin clopant

Whispering hes 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...