Paris Through the Window

Bob at the wheel of a rented car
Dick munching crackers and Brie
And Paris through the window
Paris through the window
Them, it, me

Driving from Brussels we traveled all night
Tired, cranky, fighting
Cramped in our car
When we slept, all our dreams were of home
Bob did the driving and I read the map
Finally, I fell asleep
Next thing I heard was from Dick in the back
Guess where, creep?

Paris through the window
Garbage
Paris through the window
Rain
Paris through the window
Seven morning Paris
Bob said "It's filthy!"
And Dick said "It smells!"
But if I said a thing, it was "Where?"
Eighteen years old and between me and Paris was glass and air
Paris with the window open
Paris with the window wide
Paris with the window open
And with me hanging outside

"Is this the Paris?"
Dick shouted in French
"That the poets have sung to excess?"
And I just whispered, "Yes"
Paris from my tenth grade textbook
Paris with my lousy French
Paris with the twisty oh, you know that
Paris
Turning one corner I almost fell out
When my knee hit the lock on the door
Using good judgment was never what Paris was famous for
Paris on the eighteenth August
Paris with the garbage
Fine!
Paris through the window
And they missed it that Paris was mine
Nothing that happened and nothing we saw
In the week that we stayed could compare
To simply being there
And Bob went on to a Wall Street job
And Dick to a law school degree
But Paris through the window
Paris through the window
Stayed with me