Writer(s): Edmund Goulding
A small Café Mam’selle, our rendezvous, Mam’selle.
The violins were warm and sweet, and so were you Mam’selle.
And as the night danced by, a kiss became a sigh,
Your lovely eyes seemed to sparkle just like wine does
No heart ever yearned the way that mine does for you.
And yet I know too well someday you’ll say goodbye,
Then violins will cry, and so will I Mam’selle.