Memories of France
Like a lot of little bubbles, I can blow away my troubles,
Dreaming of my romance,
With a pretty little daughter of a land across the water,
I dream that I’m back in France.
Someone whispers to me, “I love you mon chéri,” in my memories of France
And we stroll once again by the old river Seine, in my memories of France
And I see her still placing roses, where many old pal reposes,
And we laugh, and we cry, then a kiss, the “good bye,” in my memories of France
On the road from Chateau Thierry, once again so tired and weary,
I wander on my way
Then I reach a Latin quarter and a Chateau by the water,
It seems just like yesterday.