A Lonesome Gondolier sings a melody of love divine
Every evening at the stroke of nine
When lights are low.
His plaintive voice you'll hear
Underneath a certain balcony
Where a dark-eyed lady used to be
Not long ago.
He doesn't know, they say, the dark-eyed lady went away
He doesn't know that she had been there for a holiday.
His notes ring loud and clear
In his music you will find a tear
As a very lonesome gondolier
Still sings of love.