One Little Man (Le Petit Homme)
Life in the street is the same every dayLife in the street is a marvelous playLadies and lovers and bankers and bumsHurry along while the big city humsPeople are frowning while others are gayMusic tumbling from every caféThere’s all of the wonder of life and loveOut in the street with the blue sky above
There in the crowd one little manHurries along upon his wayNobody much, and turning grayJust one little manBut he has a girlHe’s still a man…He has a young and lovely girlMaybe she does demand too muchBut who wouldn’t pay to feel her touchWho wouldn’t pay, especially a manWho’s turning gray…
He has no children, no home and no wifeHe lives a kind of the Saturday lifeSaturday evening he runs up the stairsLaunches his face in her deep golden hairWhy should he care if he pays for her charmsHe can recapture his youth in her armsAnd Saturday night he can live once moreSaturday night he can live just once more…
Then one awful day he climbs the stairsPicks up a note beneath her doorWhat should he tear it open forHe knows what he’ll findPoor little man, he’s left behind…She’s gone away and he’s aloneShe never even said goodbyeWhere does a fellow go to cryWhere does he cry?...Out in the street, beneath the sky…
Life in the street is the same every dayLife in the street is a marvelous playLadies and lovers and bankers and bumsHurry along while the big city humsPeople are frowning while others are gayMusic is tumbling from every caféAnd there with the beautiful sky above…