By The Seine

Oh, poor Frankie's sleeping by the seine

He's lost his way, and the wayward artist's name's

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 da

I wouldn't have it any other way

And so

Oh, Frankie, you'll never know just why 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 paintings stare from the tarmac

For now the moon shines bright upon those dark waters tonight

Sleeping by the Seine

But 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