Poor Babette

Poor Babette, poor Babette, so far from Paris. Poor Babette, can't you see how miserable she can be? Like a bird in a cage with no wing to go free, Ah Babette, poor Babette, that's me.

Always she dreams of the life by the Seine. I do not think she will see Paris again. Poor Babette, now she tries to be happy and gay. But Babette has no way to get away, So Babette, poor Babette, will stay.