| The middle of august in Paris
|
| No one’s in town except the tourists
|
| The perfect time to go out for a walk
|
| Don’t even need to talk
|
| The streets are hot, the air is heavy
|
| Those people making me feel lonely
|
| I’m looking for a secret alley
|
| No one has ever seen
|
| A stranger’s head behind a window
|
| A scary look that hides a weirdo
|
| I’m pretty sure that he’s staring at me
|
| But no one else can see
|
| Summer nights / What should I do
|
| It’s cold and it’s warm / White and blue
|
| Summer nights / Is it true
|
| Temperature rising / Minds out of tune
|
| I keep on walking in the city
|
| This one-bedroom flat seems empty
|
| A little later there’s a party
|
| Now an old symphony
|
| Someone is digging underground there
|
| To understand what’s happening in your head
|
| But who you really are is a thing
|
| No one should ever see
|
| Summer nights / What should I do
|
| It’s cold and it’s warm / White and blue
|
| Summer nights / Is it true
|
| Temperature rising / Minds out of tune |