It was a teenage wedding,
And the old folks wished them well
You could see that Pierre
Did truly love the madamoiselle
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 Orleans
To celebrate the anniversary
It was there that Pierre was married
To the lovely madamoiselle
"C'est la vie", say the old folks,
It goes to show you never can tell