What do I hear, what do I hear?
Chit-chat, and clinking glass
Cheap talk, a lady's laugh
After hoursWhat do I see, what do I see?
Some sunken hideaway
Where people go to play
After hoursThere I'll spend the night
Meeting fancy things
At bistros and old haunts
Trying very hard to sinThen it is day and in a way
The pattern's much the same
In-spots, a matinee
Everyday
Blend with the crowd, blend with the loud
Hypnotic ebb and flow
Until the day goes slowly
Into nightSee the same old crowd
At bistros and old haunts
'Til the lights grow dim,
The not-so-subtle hint to be goneChorus:
Thank God it's not Christmas
When there is only you
And nothing else to doThank God it's not Christmas
Where there's just you to do
The rest is closed to public viewCaroling kids, caroling kids
A trifle premature, in tones so rich and pure
And crystalline
Call for the day, the popular day
It's fast approaching now
But will the mood allow
One dissentIf this were the Seine
We'd be very suave
But it's just the rain
Washing down the boulevardChorus:Popular days, the popular ways
Are for the chosen few
Not meant for me and you
ObviouslyPopular nights, poplar rites
Great things to say and do
Aren't said or done by you
ObviouslyIf this were Seine
We'd be very suave
But it's just the rain
Washing down the boulevard
Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.