| A necklace is love
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| A ring is love
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| A rock from some obnoxious little king is love
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| A sapphire with a star is lvoe
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| An ugly black cigar is love
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| Everything you are is love
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| You would think it would embarrass all the people here in Paris
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| To be thinking every minute of love!
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| I don’t understand the Parisians
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| Making love every time they get the chance
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| I don’t understand the Parisians
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| Wasting every lovely night on romance
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| Anytime
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| And under every tree in town
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| They’re in session two by two
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| What a crime with all there is to see in town
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| They can’t find something else to do
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| I don’t understand how Parisians
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| Never tire of walking hand in hand
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| But they seem to love it
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| And speak highly of it
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| I don’t understand
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| The Parisians
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| When it’s warm
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| They take a carriage ride at night
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| Close their eyes and hug and kiss
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| When it’s cold
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| They simply move inside at night
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| There must be more to life than this
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| I don’t understand the Parisians
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| Thinking love so miraculous and grand
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| But they rave about it
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| and won’t live without it
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| I don’t understand
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| The Parisians |