The last time I saw Paris,
her heart was warm and gay
I heard the laughter of her heart
in every 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 taxicabs
that I had dodged for years
The chorus of their squeaky 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

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edycja tekstu - avatarm