Pointy shoes checked dress wormeaten hearts incognito
at the dancehall1 at night you’re packed a bit tight there’s a look in everyone’s eyes
It comes up from below like a rumble which won’t let you go
anyway it’s cool
it jostles you deep down while the accordion’s arguing
[Spoken]:
Woman: “Ah! Prud’homme2, what a tour de force!”
Man: “Prud’homme? What? That's Duval!3
Waltz or cheek-to-cheek a pally sax a Chinese tango I’m walking starstruck
who gives a damn for Yankee tricks stuff your bebop I’m doing fine like this
Weeping violin naughty violin there’s joy in every corner
On the balconies they crane their necks the way that lovers do
[Spoken]:
Man: Do you often come for a dance here, miss?
Woman: Nice, isn’t it?4
The Paris lad, when it’s foxtrot time, has a step to his street-talk in the way he weaves
With his paws in such soft words as he wheedles - just how far?
Other places it’s true can do that step too but strictly speaking a Paris dancehall
Doesn’t get too hung up on the cha-cha-cha you go to the dance for you know what
[Spoken]:
Man: “How about it?”
Woman: “Oh no, no! I can’t come out tomorrow night…”5
Femme fatale and gigolo that could be why the daddy sax
Gets the jitters if on the scene they change the tune that’s how you start to be past it
Anyhow, the dancehall’s not made for the arty types, but when you’re in
You’ve got to get cracking and make it on what you’ve got and then dance on
1. 'Le guinche', the song's title, is both an informal dance, eg at a neighbourhood bar, and a dance tune itself2. Emile Prud’homme accordionist, often accompanying the singer Edith Piaf3. She doesn’t say the line transcribed in any version I can find: more like Woman: 'Ah, Prudhomme, quel souffle!' Man: 'Prud’homme? On, mon Dieu, hein? Ça serait Duval, ça!'4. She doesn’t say the line transcribed in any version I can find, but Man: ‘Vous venez souvent danser ici, Mademoiselle?’ Woman [giggles] ‘C’est bien, hein?’5. She doesn’t say the line transcribed in any version I can find, Rather simply 'Oh, alors!'