In Paris with you

In Paris with You

Don’t talk to me of love, I’ve had an earful
And I get tearful when I’ve downed a drink or two.
I’m one of your talking wounded,
I’m a hostage, I’m maroonded,
But I’m in Paris with you.

Yes, I’m angry at the way I’ve been bamboozled
And resentful at the mess that I’ve through.
I’ll admit I’m on the rebound
And I don’t care where are we bound,
‘Cos I’m in Paris with you.

Do you mind if we don’t go to the Louvre?
If we say feck off to fecking Notre Dame?
Can’t we skip the Champs Elysées
And just stay in this sleazy hotel room?

Don’t talk to me of love, let’s talk of Paris.
The little bit of Paris in our view.
There’s a crack up in the ceiling
And the hotel walls are peeling
But I’m in Paris with you.

Don’t talk to me of love, let’s talk of Paris,
I’m in Paris with the slightest thing to do.
I’m in Paris with your eyes,
I’m in Paris with your moutn,
I’m in Paris with all points South,
Am I embarrassing you?Am I?
Well, I don’t care!
Because I’m in Paris, in Paris, in Paris with you.
Je suis en Paris avec toi.
I am in Paris with you.

{Copyright 1993 Salamander Press Ltd from the collectionOUT OF DANGER by James Fenton. All rights reserved.}