Perdu Dans Paris

The square's a picture postcard

And it's just like on TV

The brasseries and sprawling pavement cafés

Casting lumiere onto the streets of Gay Paris

And the searchlight from the great tower hits the evening

As the white buildings sauté in the oil of the setting sun....

The doorway of the Gare Du Nord is a festival

Of commuters and tourists all on their beat

The hive of cars and trams and taxis

Leaving time-lapse ribbons hanging there, all down the street

And the Sacre-Coeur lights, they stay on 'til midnight

While the ghosts of the great artists still do their rounds

As the night comes around the city settles down,

From this hotel room I've found, there's two cities in this town, and two paths to go down

There's a line of sleeping bags now, where the souvenir stands stood,

Taking the last begrudging Euros from the hands of the tourists

- for the pockets of the hoods

The station canopy's a doss house now, and every city street's a lounge

Toa thousand homeless lost souls on the late shift,

On a late night litter scrounge

Pulling pizzas from the bins on the Champs Elysées

Forming huddled groups down by the Siene at Notre Dame

And as the city settles down, you don't wanna be around

'Cos from this hotel room I've found, theres two cities in this town,

And I'm living in one, but I could be in the other tomorrow,

Oh tomorrow!

Breathing in the morning air on the balcony some hours later

It all seems like a dream

And I wonder if those people gathered by the Metro,

Are the ones who slept beneath me

And the city and its monuments, will they reach the horizon now,

Whether Paris, or London, or Berlin, or Southend-On-Sea