Paris
Intro
For some old fashionned romance, take your true love to Paris,
the world reknown city of love and light,
thats oozing with charm and sophistication.
Enjoy the shabby chic delights of the latin quarter,
watch the sunset from the hilltop of Montmartre,
and take a moonlit stroll along the banks of the river Seine.
And end this perfect day by a champagne supper,
in a traditionnal french bistro,
and whisper sweet nothings by
candle light, light, light, light, light...
Paris, la nuit, l'ennui, exquis,
Personne, n'en vit, la lune, ici.
A wonderful city, a plce for lovers, a city to dream wild,
the river shining, a city that never sleeps,
the romance is the air,
the lovers are feeling the love that is in the air.
But still walking by myself,
the smell of the roses the lover scan smell...
Paris, la nuit, l'ennui, exquis,
Personne, n'en vit, la lune, ici.
A Paris, ya rien à faire disait-il
déjà, mais qu'est ce qu'on fout ici?
Coincés dans le noir de nos habits, marcher dans les rues,
marcher dans les rues,
se délectant des reliquats christiques,
coincés dans le formol romantique... Les clubs de nuits?
Pas pour moi ce soir merci, les clubs de jour?
Encore moins... Peut-être demain... Peut-être demain...
For some old fashionned romance, take your true love to Paris,
the world reknown city of love and light,
thats oozing with charm and sophistication.
Enjoy the shabby chic delights of the latin quarter,
watch the sunset from the hilltop of Montmartre,
and take a moonlit stroll along the banks of the river Seine.
And end this perfect day by a champagne supper,
in a traditionnal french bistro,
and whisper sweet nothings by
candle light, light, light, light, light...
Paris, la nuit, l'ennui, exquis,
Personne, n'en vit, la lune, ici.
A wonderful city, a plce for lovers, a city to dream wild,
the river shining, a city that never sleeps,
the romance is the air,
the lovers are feeling the love that is in the air.
But still walking by myself,
the smell of the roses the lover scan smell...
Paris, la nuit, l'ennui, exquis,
Personne, n'en vit, la lune, ici.
A Paris, ya rien à faire disait-il
déjà, mais qu'est ce qu'on fout ici?
Coincés dans le noir de nos habits, marcher dans les rues,
marcher dans les rues,
se délectant des reliquats christiques,
coincés dans le formol romantique... Les clubs de nuits?
Pas pour moi ce soir merci, les clubs de jour?
Encore moins... Peut-être demain... Peut-être demain...
Credits
Writer(s): Sydney Valette
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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