Fantasy in olden days
In varying and different ways
Was very much in vogue.
Columbine and Pantaloon,
A wistful Pierrot 'neath the moon,
And Harlequin a rogue.
Nowadays Parisians of leisure
Wake the echo of an old refrain
Each some ragged effigy will treasure
For his pleasure,
Till the shadows of their story live again.
Parisian Pierrot,
Society’s hero,
The lord of the day,
The Rue de la Paix
Is under your sway,
The world may flatter
But what does that matter?
They’ll never shatter
Your gloom profound
Parisian Pierrot,
Your spirit’s at zero,
Divinely forlorn,
With exquisite scorn
From sunset to dawn,
The limbo is calling,
Your star will be falling,
As soon as the clock goes round.
Mournfulness has always been
The keynote of a Pierrot scene,
When passion plays a part.
Pierrot in a tragic pose
Will kiss a faded silver rose
With sadness in his heart.
Someday soon hell leave his tears behind him,
Comedy comes laughing down the street,
Columbine will fly to him
Admiring and desiring,
Laying love and adoration at his feet.
Parisian Pierrot,
Society’s hero,
The lord of the day,
The Rue de la Paix
Is under your sway,
The world may flatter
But what does that matter?
They’ll never shatter
Your gloom profound
Parisian Pierrot,
Your spirit’s at zero,
Divinely forlorn,
With exquisite scorn
From sunset to dawn,
The limbo is calling,
Your star will be falling,
As soon as the clock goes round.
