The Moulin De La Galette
By Dave Meyer
After the painting by Pierre-Auguste Renoir (1841 - 1919)
Dancers sway as sunlight dances,
Across the faces of gay romancers,
It's the music of a Sunday in France,
At the Moulin de la Galette.
And courtesy of the Louvre museum,
We all have a chance to see 'em.
Wouldn't we all love to be,
At the Moulin de la Galette?
They're all show-stoppers and they love to flaunt it,
In their straw hats, toppers and Sunday bonnets,
Even a nice head or two with nothing on it,
At the Moulin de la Galette.
And aren't they comfortable sitting there:
The girl on her bench and the man in his chair?
They don't dance, they just come out for the air,
To the Moulin de la Galette.
And courtesy of the Louvre museum,
We all have a chance to see 'em.
Wouldn't we all love to be,
At the Moulin de la Galette?
Old Renoir sits back and he studies his crowd,
His colors are warm, but his reds are loud.
It's enough to make some impressionistic mothers proud,
Of the Moulin de la Galette.
And courtesy of the Louvre museum,
We all have a chance to see 'em.
Wouldn't we all love to be,
At the Moulin de la Galette?
