Promenade

In provence, in the south

there's a very pretty yellow house

near where lives the painters

of sunflowers and of

sidewalk cafes

strolling there , all in white

to the passerbys delight

les arllesienes fill the air

with their voices so gay

strolling up , strolling down

promenading through the town

singing praise to the sun's golden rays

all on oh..such a lovely spring day

here in arle

promenade mes arlessienes.

promenade

*

holding hands, arlessienes

promenading past the place du champs

in their pretty little dresses passing there

on the place la martin'

on the grande...boulevard..

there's the little stand of pere vuillard

where he's selling peanuts for the very silly sum

of just two centimes

strolling here , strolling there

the scent of laurel in their hair

and it's just like a midsummers dream

escuse me...my heart just took wing

little ones...

carry on mes arlessienes

promenade...

Pathetique'

cafe nuit'

In the provence of the night cafe

the lost take refuge from the cold dark street

their shadows there are cast on bold display

in somber shades of jaunne and pathetique'

*

abisinthe tobac and cheap red wine

serve the rogue to ease his hunger pains

on old stale crusts and little more they dine

victims of a bougoirs cold disdain

*

morning serves to bring their cause to light

they suffer yet another days defeat

they have not recourse but to then return

to the precincts that some call

cafe nuit..

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