It was a teenage wedding, and the old folks wished them well 
You could see that Pierre did [bad word] love the madamoiselle 
And now the young monsieur and madame [bad word] 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 [bad word]  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