| The last time I saw Paris
|
| Her heart was warm and gray
|
| I heard the laughter of her heart in every street cafe
|
| The last time I saw Paris
|
| Her trees were dressed for spring
|
| And lovers walked beneath those trees
|
| And birds found songs to sing
|
| I dodged the same old taxicabs
|
| That I had dodged for years
|
| The chorus of the squeaky horns
|
| Was music to my ears
|
| Oh the last time I saw Paris
|
| Her heart was warm and gay
|
| No matter how they changed her
|
| I’ll remember her ah that way
|
| Dodged the same old taxicabs
|
| That I had dodged for years
|
| The chorus of the squeaky horns
|
| Was music to my ears
|
| Yeh, the last time I saw Paris
|
| Her heart was warm and gay
|
| No matter how they change her
|
| I’ll remember her that way
|
| The last time I saw Paris
|
| The last time I saw Paris |