| Just got back from Paris, France
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| All they do is sing and dance
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| All they’ve got there is romance
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| What a tragedy
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| Every boulevard has lovers
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| Every lover’s in a trance
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| The poor people of Paree
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| I feel sorry for the French
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| Every guy has got a wench
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| Every couple’s got a bench
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| Kissing shamelessly
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| Night and day they’re making music
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| While they’re making love in French
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| The poor people of Paree
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| Milk or water from the sink
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| Make a true Parisian shrink
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| Wine is all he’ll ever drink
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| And it worries me For with wine as cheap as water
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| Oh, it makes one stop and think
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| The poor people of Paree
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| Sister met a boy named Pierre
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| Had the craziest affair
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| And the day they parted there
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| He cried bitterly
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| Pierre was there to bid her farewell
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| But he brought his new girl, Claire
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| The poor people of Paree
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| So don’t go to Paris, France
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| Not unless you like to dance
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| Not unless you want romance
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| Like those poor inhabitants of Paree |