(I must say thank you to James Fenton for his poem "In Paris with you" for the inspiration for this piece)
Paris is; they say the city of love,
and I love that city more than any above.
I know that through lifes wringer; I have been
and that the very bottom; I have seen.
But when love grew,
and you said "I do"
I must go to Paris; Paris with you.
We could stroll its boulevards let's see all it's sights,
visit the 'Sacre Coeur'; up all those flights.
At the top we'd gaze upon the city and stare,
just drink it all in without a care.
But what a drag,
come; light me a fag!
for I am in Paris; Paris with you.
Let's order 'service de chambre', cover the bed sheets with crumbs.
Much better than the 'metro'
and twiddling our thumbs.
We could express our love in a thousand ways,
then call down for 'service'
to take all the trays.
Paris is our view,
we're here; us two
here in Paris; Paris with you.
To hell with the 'Louvre' and all its queues,
and old 'Notre Dame' giving me the blues.
The 'Latin Quarter' although vibrant and gaye,
are going to have to wait',
I've got something to say.
Who could want more,
quick; fasten the door!
For I love Paris; Paris with you!
