piccolo, clarinet in Bflat,violin, cello, piano
With a spot of white, of shining moonlight
On the collar of his jet-black jacket,
So Pierrot goes walking in the evening,
Out to seek some joy and high adventure.
Sudden, in his dress something disturbs him.
He examines it-and yes, he finds there
A spot of white, of shining moonlight
On the collare of his jet-black jacket.
Hang it, he thinks; another spot of whitewash!
Whisks and whisks, yet he cannot remove it
So he goes on, full of spleen and fury,
Rubs and rubs unti the ealrly morning
A spot of white, of shinig moonlight.