They call me coquette, and mademoiselle,
And I must admit I like it quite well.
It's something to be the darling of all;
Le grande femme fatale, the belle of the ball,
There's nothing as gay as life in Paris,
There's no other person, I'd rather be,
I love what I do, I love what I see,
But where is the schoolgirl that used to be meâ?¦.
Ah, the apple trees,
Where at garden teas,
Jack-o-lanterns swung:
Fashions of the day,
Vests of applique,
Dresses of shantung,
Only yesterday.
When The World Was Young
While sitting around we often recall,
The laugh of the year ' the night of them all,
The blonds who was so attractive that year,
Some opening night that made us all cheer;
Remember that time we all got so tight,
And Jacques and Antoine got into a fight,
The gendarmes who came, passed out like a light,
I laugh with the rest ' it's all very bright.
Ah, the apple trees,
Sunlight memories,
Where the hammock swung,
On our backs we'd lie;
Looking at the shy,
'Til the stars were strung,
Only last July,
When the World Was Young.
You'll see me in Cape D'Antibes , or in Spain ,
I follow the sun by boat or by plane,
It's any old millionaire in a storm,
For I've got my mink to keep my heart warm:
And sometimes I drink too much with the crowd,
And, sometimes I talk a little too loud,
My head may be aching, but it's unbowed,
And sometimes I see it all through the cloudâ?¦
Ah, the apple trees,
And the hive of bees,
Where we once got stung,
Summers at Bordeau:
Rowing at bateau,
Where the willow hung,
Just a dream ago,
When the World Was Young
