Jonatha Brooke - Paris Lyrics
L'Allemand used to visit me in Paris, in ParisI remember the men, I remember the houses in ParisHis station nearby, I was his afternoonsWe didn't mind, we shared everything, everything, in ParisAnd he'd come in looking for comfortLeave again looking to the left and the right...Did we see too much, say too littleStepping over every dark thing, would it all be true tommorrowBut, he loves meFraming his face with my hands in the doorway,I try to decipher the friend from the foe in his eyesA man's skin will be blown back with time and confusion'Til it gathers by his ears, in the same human shallowsLike sand at the sea...Did he hear too much, say too littleCould any year recover what we lost in theseWith the hum of the war in the run of the dayI walk with my head held high and ***** in the sunClaiming these streets for myselfI walk with my head held high and ***** in the sunClaiming these streets for myself, againI am the unchanging narrative, I don't resolve neatlyAnd I am the unchained melody, the current of the need to surviveAnd I go on looking for comfortI can no longer see to the left or the right...But I walk with my head held high and ***** in the sunClaiming these streets for myselfI walk with my head held high and ***** in the sunClaiming these streets for myselfI walk with my head held high and ***** in the sunClaiming these streets for myselfI walk with my head held high and ***** in the sunClaiming these streets for myself
