The stage is gay and bright, 
the footlights gleaming
you hear me sing to-night, 
with laughter beaming, 

you see me laugh and play, 
you call me funny, 
How bright he is! you say, 
how gay and sunny!

Ah, little laughing maid, 
you do not know, 
how many tears it costs 
to make one gay Pierrot.

And when the play is done, 
my little maiden, 
back to your life you run, 
with sunshine laden, 

and if you think of me 
perhaps you're saying, 
"how gay his life must be, 
it's only playing!"

Ah, little happy maid, 
you do not know, 
how many tears it costs 
to make one gay Pierrot.