Slipping past the chimney-pots
Down among the ashes, away from old times--
Why must I self-indulge in memories?
I should be celebrating to a moving melody
But it hurts me, it hurts me
Honey, honey, it hurts me
And I'm feeling like a waltz
Growing old, - old, old, old, old
I was fiery but you put me out
I was always one for loving and leaving
I like to think I was immune to romance
I should be laughing at some good old comedy
Oh, but it hurts me, it hurts me
Honey, honey, it hurts me
And I'm feeling like a waltz -
If you laughed at me, I'd laugh too
Waltz, don't you know that I'd be really breakin-ing
L'amour--marche avec un etranger
I shouldn't care, you're not my darling anymore
But it hurts me, it hurts me
Honey, honey, honey, honey
And I'm feeling like a waltz
Growing old, old, old, old, old