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You know I wish I was back in Paris, mateThat was the last time I was really happyWalking the streets from morning 'till nightIn Gare de l'Est station drinking coffeeWatching soldiers duck behind pillars to kissThe pigeons looking for what the lowlifes might have missedI waited forThe morning trainThe morning trainFrom Paris to Charlesville-Mezieres200 miles north of here, through the winter ArdennesThe fields have turned brown earth and frozen farmlandsThat you crossed on foot sixteen years oldSixteen years old, Just trying to, just trying to poke a hole in the worldAnd it seems a long way,It seems, seems such a long wayIt seems a long way,Seems, seems such a long way.And I promise to be goodI, I, I promise to be goodAnd it seems a long way,But not, not such a long wayLetras de cancionesIt seems a long way,But not, not such a long wayA nineteen year old boy arrives in London, WaterlooWhat does he find?He finds a beautiful, empty building and a big sky in mindYou know, when I was fourteen years oldI slept with a boy who was 21And out of the clear blue sky the other dayI ran into a mutual friend who told me he's dead and goneStrange to thinkStrange to think he's dead and gone and I'm still hereIn London, dreaming of Paris and Charleville-MezieresThe town where you were born, raised, ran away fromTo Paris, to Belgium, to London, across Europe on foot,Alexandria, into Africa,Almost gone, almost out, Almost gone, almost outDo you ever get the urge to just run,And get gone, gone?Do you ever get the urge to just run,Run, get gone, gone?And a lot of things get abandoned along the way, don't theyA lot of things get abandoned along the way, don't theyDo you ever get the urge to just run, run,And get gone, gone?Do you ever get the urge to just run,Run, get gone, gone?Oh, what's a bunny rabbit do?Hop!What does an axe do?Chop!What d'you do when you see a green light?Someone told me it was all happening in FranceJe parle Francais, pas de chanceWell, excuse my French but here's a story that'll make you laughI took a girl - I took a boy -I took a girl - I took a boy -I took a girl back the night before lastDid you give her your number? Ha!I didn't even give her my nameBut when she came - When he ca-When she ca- When he ca-Oh, he was a pretty little thingHe had blonde hair over his earsI was hiding in the meth roomWhen the light burst through the windowIt shattered on the mirrorAnd that's when it all happened One minute I'm here, the next I disap-But when he, when he came- When he ca-When she ca- When, when he came When he came, when he came, when he, when he finally cameWhen he came, when he came, when he, when he finally cameAnd I promise to be goodAnd a lot of things get abandoned along the way, don't theyWhen he came, when he came, when he finally cameWhen he came, when he came, when he finally cameWhen he finally came,He came all over me!All over me!Sha la di da daSha la di da daSha la di da daSha la di da daSha la di da daSha la di da daSha la di da daSha la di da daThere, there, go to sleep nowThere, there, now go to sleep nowThere, there, now, go to sleepGo to sleep nowThe Sacred Heart is up on the hill tonightThe Sacred Heart is up on the hill tonightIt's raining tonight in NewcrossComing down from the dirty purple skies behind the clocks of King's CrossThese streets are on wheelsThey turn like the workings of clocksIt's cold in Euston. I wish it was notI wish I was somewhere I was hotAnd I see that photograph of you in AfricaAnd it's a grainy picture, but there is a figure in the centreBut the face has been obscured and blurredThere's no-one there, yet there is someoneThere's no-one there, yet there is someoneThere's no-one there, yet there, there's no-one there, yet there is someoneOoh, la di da x severalAnd I was in my hotel room in ParisAnd all the lights were offAnd the window was open and to the viewAnd I know what I'm gonna doAh, ah, ah x lotsI wrote a poet through the streets tonightI wrote a poet, wrote a poet through the world tonightYou know, I wish I was back in Paris, manAnd walking through the Metro stationDusty shafts of sunlight on the platform Where it falls through a grate in the pavementBy the fountain at PigalleAnd down the road to Montmartre and the cemeteryThe cats and the empty flowerpots and gravestones stare at meSheets of rain across a park in BloomsburyIt knocks the pink blossom of the cherry blossom treeIt forms rivers on the pavement and streams past meAnd thenIn a darkened room, lost on the weekend,I may meet the mysteryYou know, I hate to leave you hereBut I've gotta goI hate to leave you here in an ugly graveyard in Charlesville-MezieresBut your shirt's covered in bloodIt's speckled on your neck and below your earAnd your mountains are covered in snowAnd on the train back from Charlesville to ParisI wonder if life in London has changedIf a tree falls in a forest, If a tree falls in a forest..When I get back, decisions must be madeYou know,if you get far enough intothe boys, and the bars, and the booze, and the girls, and the drugs, and the clubs,and the boys, and the bars, and the booze, and the girls, and the drugs, and the clubs,boys, the bars, the booze, the girls, the drugs, the clubsOh, ain't none of that stuff for you, butIf you play your cards right,You'll findThat violence won't be far behindViolence won't be far behind From Letras Mania