Paris

L'allemand used to visit me in Paris, in Paris

I remember the men, I remember the houses in Paris

His station nearby, I was his afternoons

We didn't mind, we shared everything, everything, Paris

He'd come in looking for comfort, leave again looking to the left and the right

Did we see too much, say too little

Stepping over every dark thing

Would it all be true tomorrow?

But he loves me

Framing his face with my hands in the doorway

I try to decipher the friend from the foe in his eyes

A man's skin will be blown back with time and confusion

'Til it gathers by his ears in the same human shallows like sand at the sea

Did he hear too much, say too little

Could any year recover what we lost in these?

With the hum of the war in the run of the day, but

I walk with my head held high and naked in the sun

Claiming these streets for myself

I walk with my head held high and naked in the sun

Claiming these streets for myself,

Again

I am the unchanging narrative, I don't resolve neatly

And I am the unchained melody, the current of the need to survive

And I go on looking for comfort, I can no longer see to the left or the right, but

I walk with my head held high and naked in the sun

Claiming these streets for myself

I walk with my head held high and naked in the sun

Claiming these streets for myself,

Again