| She said hello, she was letting me know
|
| We share friends in Soho
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| She’s a pain in the nose
|
| I’m a pain in women’s clothes
|
| You’re a walking overdose in a great coat
|
| And so she wrote a plan for it on the back of a fag packet
|
| She had to leave because she couldn’t hack it
|
| Not enough noise and too much racket
|
| I think I’ve spent all my money and your friends, oh
|
| But how I’d love to go to Paris again
|
| And how I’d love to go to Paris again
|
| Mr. Serotonin Man, lend me a gram
|
| You call yourself a friend?
|
| I’ve got two left feet and I’m starting to cheat
|
| On my girlfriend again
|
| I caught her picking her nose
|
| As the crowd cheered for an overdose
|
| And I don’t suppose you know where this train goes
|
| There was a party that she had to miss
|
| Because her friend kept cutting her wrists
|
| Hyper-politicized sexual trysts
|
| «Oh, I think my boyfriend’s a nihilist»
|
| As I said «Hey kids! |
| we’re all just the same
|
| What a shame»
|
| You know, how I’d love to go to Paris again
|
| And how I’d love to go to Paris again
|
| Oh stop being an arsehole
|
| And counting my eye rolls
|
| They’re like piss holes in the snow
|
| Uh oh
|
| Keeping a tab on my health
|
| Man you’re putting me up on a shelf
|
| Well I’ll believe you’re clean
|
| But only by seeing your face for myself
|
| And then she pointed at the bag of her dreams
|
| In a well posh magazine
|
| I said «I'm done, babe I’m out of the scene, «But I was picking up from Bethnal Green
|
| She said I’d been romanticizing heroin
|
| And oh how I’d love to go to Paris, to Paris again
|
| And how I’d love to go to Paris again
|
| And how I’d love to go to Paris again
|
| And how I’d love to go to Paris again |