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

I’ll think of happy hours, and people who shared them
Old women, selling flowers, in markets at dawn
Children who applauded, Punch and Judy in the park
And those who danced at night and kept our Paris bright
Till the town went dark