Из альбома: Jazz Loves Paris
It was Montmartre
It was midnight
Come to think of it It was spring
There was music
I was listening
Then in the room somewhere someone began to sing
This melody made for remembering
A small cafe, mam’selle
Our rendezvous, mam’selle
The violins were warm and sweet and so were you, mam’selle
And as the night danced by A kiss became a sigh
Your lovely eyes
Seem to sparkle just like wine does
No heart ever yearned the way that mine does, for you
And yet I know too well
Someday we’ll say goodbye
Then violins will cry
And so will I, mam’selle