The Last Time I Saw Paris

The last time I saw Paris,

Her heart was warm and gay;

I heard the laughter of her heart

In ev’ry street café.

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 taxi c      abs that I had dodged for years;

The chorus        of their squeeky horns was music     to my ears.

The last time I saw Paris,

Her heart was warm and gay;

No matter how they change her,

I’ll remember her that way.