It's Sunday, and I am taking a bit of a breather between bouts of humping (oo-er, missus!) stuff to the new house.
In keeping with that mellow feeling, here is a magnificent performance by the doyenne of smokey torch songs and off-beat ballads, the one, the only, Miss Peggy Lee! Enjoy...
They call me coquette, and mademoiselle,
And I must admit I like it quite well.
It’s something to be the darling of all;
Le grande femme fatale – the belle of the ball,
There’s nothing as gay as life in Paris,
There’s no other person I’d rather be,
I love what I do – I love what I see,
But where is the schoolgirl that used to be me…?
Ah, the apple trees,
Where at garden teas,
Jack-o'-lanterns swung:
Fashions of the day,
Vests of appliqué,
Dresses of shantung,
Only yesterday.
When the world was young.
While sitting around we often recall,
The laugh of the year – the night of them all,
The blonds who were so attractive that year,
Some opening night that made us all cheer;
Remember that time we all got so tight,
And Jacques and Antoine got into a fight,
The gendarmes who came, passed out like a light,
I laugh with the rest – it’s all very bright.
Ah, the apple trees,
Sunlight memories,
Where the hammock swung,
On our backs we’d lie;
Looking at the shy,
Till the stars were strung,
Only last July,
When the world was young.
You’ll see me in Cape D’Antibes , or in Spain,
I follow the sun by boat or by plane,
It’s any old millionaire in a storm,
For I’ve got my mink to keep my heart warm:
And sometimes I drink too much with the crowd,
And, sometimes I talk a little too loud,
My head may be aching, but it’s unbowed,
And sometimes I see it all through the cloud…
Ah, the apple trees,
And the hive of bees,
Where we once got stung,
Summers at Bordeaux:
Rowing at Bateau,
Where the willow hung,
Just a dream ago,
When the world was young.
