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It was a teenage wedding, and the old folks wished them well |
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You could see that pierre did truly love the mademoiselle |
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And now the young monsieur and madame have rung the chapel bell, |
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Cest la vie, say the old folks, it go to show you never can tell |
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They furnished off an apartment with a two room roebuck sale |
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The coolerator was crammed with tv dinners and ginger ale, |
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But when pierre found work, the little money comin worked out well |
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Cest la vie, say the old folks, it go to show you never can tell |
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They had a hi-fi phono, boy, did they let it blast |
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Seven hundred little records, all rock, and rhythm and jazz |
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But when the sun went down, the rapid tempo of the music fell |
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Cest la vie, say the old folks, it go to show you never can tell |
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They bought a souped-up jitney, was a cherry red 53, |
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Drove down to new orleans to celebrate the anniversary |
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It was there where pierre was married to the lovely mademoiselle |
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Cest la vie, say the old folks, it go to show you never can tell |
|
They had a teenage wedding, and the old folks wished them well |
|
You could see that pierre did truly love the mademoiselle |
|
And now the young monsieur and madame have rung the chapel bell, |
|
Cest la vie, say the old folks, it go to show you never can tell |
|
Cest la vie, say the old folks, it go to show you never can tell |
|
Cest la vie, say the old folks, it go to show you never can tell |
