I was twenty-two
Spring was on its way
Every sky was blue
And every months was may
Calais in the sun
Wine and comfiture
All the world to see
But all I saw was you
You surf me coups of tea
With skoal's from your Papa
Who stud way he could see
Behind the Bistro bar
I asked you for your name
You laughed and said: Marie
Could I see you again?
You smiled and said: Me oui
Every Sunday I took the ferry
Every Sunday papa not knowing
Just eighteen miles each way
From Dover to Calais
The more we fall in love
The bolder we became
I asked you for your hand
You said: Oh oui je t'aime
Now after all these years
Papa has past away
Oh, how he loved us both
He wrote to know to me to say
Every Sunday
I watched you meet her right here
Every Sunday I knew you loved her
For it's eighteen miles each way
From Dover to Calais
Every Sunday
Trough any weather to you
Every Sunday papa was waiting
And it's eighteen miles each way
From Dover to Calais
From Dover to Calais
From Dover to Calais
