They call me coquette, and mademoiselle
And I must admit I like it quite well
It's something to be the darling of all
Le grande femme fatale the belle of the ball
There's nothing as gay as life in Paris
There's no other person, I'd rather be
I love what I do, I love what I see
But where is the schoolgirl that used to be me

Ah, the apple trees,
Blossoms in the breeze,
That we walked among,
Lying in the hay,
Games we used to play,
While the rounds were sung,
Only yesterday, when the world was young.

You'll see me in Cape d'Antibes, or in Spain
I follow the sun by boat or by plane
It's any old millionaire in a storm
For I've got my mink to keep my heart warm:
And sometimes I drink too much with the crowd
And, sometimes I talk a little too loud
My head may be aching, but it's unbowed
And sometimes I see it all through a cloud

Ah, the apple trees,
Sunlit memories,
Where the hammock swung,
On our backs we'd lie,
Looking at the sky,
Till the stars were strung,
Only last July
When the world was young.

Ah, the apple trees
And the hive of bees
Where we once got stung
Summers at Bordeau
Rowing at Bateau
Where the willow hung
Just a dream ago
When the world was young