A small cafe, Mam'selle. A rendezvous, Mam'selle. The violins were warm and sweet. And so were you, Mam'selle. . And as the night danced by, a kiss became a sigh.
It was Montmartre. It was midnight. Come to think of it. It was spring. There was music. I was listening. Then in the room somewhere someone began to sing.
A small cafe mam'selle. A rendezvous mam'selle. The violins were warm and sweet and so were you mam'selle. And as the night danced by. Her kiss became a sigh.