Here I sit in my red chapeau
The table's dimly lit as I take off my coat
Didn't you say
That you'd meet me here at eight
And I wonder, are you always this late?

Time drips by down the window pane
My hopes evaporate and come down with the rain
Storms in the forecast
And now it's quarter past
And I wonder, how long will this last

'Cause I am a soft touch
The face on my watch
And the hands tell me as much
I think, it's about time that the rain and I resign
And I wonder when will that sun shine

The waiter comes through: "Anything for mademoiselle?"
At a table for two I order for myself
I finish up my tea 
And I bid the night "Bon nuit"
And I won't wonder what might have been
No I won't wonder what might have been