has left her old companions
Lonely men with lonely eyes
Her streets are where they were,
but there's no sign of her.
The last time I saw Paris,
her heart was warm and gay.
I heard the laughter of her heart
The last time I saw parrots,
the trees were dressed for spring,
and lov ers walked beneath those trees,
and birds found songs to sing.
I dodged the same old taxi cabs
that I had dodged for years.
The chorus of their squeak y horns
The last time I saw Paris,
her heart was warm and gay.
No matter how they changed her,
I'll think of happy hours
and people who shared them,
old women selling flowers
children who uploaded Pansion
and those who danced at night
And kept their Paris bride
The last time I saw Paris
Her heart was warm and gay
I heard the laughter of her heart
The last time I saw parrots,
the trees were dressed for spring.
And lovers walked beneath those trees,
and birds found songs to sing.
I dodged the same old taxi cabs
that I had dodged for years.
The chorus of their squeaky horns
The last time I saw Paris,
her heart was warm and gay
No matter how they change her,