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 show you never can tell
They furnished off an apartment
With a two room Roebuck sale
The coolerator was crammed
With TV dinners 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 rock, 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
‘twas a cherry red ’53
They drove it down to New Orleans
To celebrate their anniversary
It was there where Pierre was married
To the lovely Mademoiselle
c’est la vie say the old folks
It goes to show you never can tell
c’est la vie say the old folks
It goes to show you never can tell
c’est la vie say the old folks
It goes to show you never can tell
