It was 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 C'est la vie, say the old folks It goes to slow you never can tell They furnished off an apartment With a two room roebuck sale The coolerator was crammed With t.v. dimmers and ginger ale But when pierre found work The little money comin' worked out well C'est la vie, say the old folks It goes to show you never can tell
They had a hi-fi phono Boy did they let it blast Seven hundred little records All rockin' rhythm and jazz But when the sun went down The rapid tempo of the music fell C'est la vie, say the old folks It goes to show you never can tell
They bought a souped-up jitney T'was a cherry-red fifty nine They drove it down to new orleans To celebrate their anniversary It was there that pierre Was wedded to the lovely mad'moiselle C'est la vie, say the old folks It goes to show you never can tell
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