| Oh poor Frankie’s sleeping by the Seine |
| He’s lost his way and the wayward artist’s name is |
| 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 |
| I wouldn’t have it any other way |
| Oh Frankie you’ll never know |
| how 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 painting stares from the tarmac |
| For now the moon shines bright |
| upon these dark waters tonight |
| Sleeping by the Seine |
| Oh poor Frankie’s sleeping by the Seine |
| He’s lost his way and the wayward artist’s name is 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 |
| 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.» |
| I wouldn’t have it any other way. |
| Oh Frankie you’ll never know how 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 painting stares from the tarmac |
| For now the moon shines bright upon these dark waters tonight |
| Sleeping by the Seine |