Oh poor Frankie's sleeping by the Seine
He's lost his way and the wayward artist's name is washed with the rain.
Now he cries out "We are here, this is the dogs. Our stars are lost."
But the pavement bares your name... down by the Seine.
La de da
I wouldn't have it any other way.
Oh Frankie you'll never know how you set young lovers on their toes
You've filled your cap with pennies from the proletariat.
Sleeping by the Seine.
The crowds are loud; the streets are black.
But still your painting stares from the tarmac
For now the moon shines bright upon these dark waters tonight.
Sleeping by the Seine.
Oh poor Frankie's sleeping by the Seine
He's lost his way and the wayward artist's name is washed with the rain.
Now he cries out "We are here, this is the dogs. Our stars are lost."
But the pavement bares your name... down by the Seine.
They chased you down the Rue de Mon
You were cursing like a scullion
You found your head stuck in a cloud
And you cried
"If it was a sunny day, all the cobbles would gleam down Back-hand Way"
We shout
"Tonight, the Seine is ours."
I wouldn't have it any other way.
Oh Frankie you'll never know how you set young lovers on their toes
You've filled your cap with pennies from the proletariat.
Sleeping by the Seine.
The crowds are loud; the streets are black.
But still your painting stares from the tarmac.
For now the moon shines bright upon these dark waters tonight.
Sleeping by the Seine.