Clopin-Clopant

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 they'll go out I'll go along clopin clopant Whispering he's 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...