Paris

We call it the ghaoil

Except we drink wine and take walks by the Seine

There's these cavalry men

Dressed up in blue

They pass by around ten

They remind you of you

Watched you be carried out of view from my room

Was so volatile then

Nearly twenty two and I'll have lived where you went

A summer well spent

In paris thes stories my mother tells best

And you were right

There's this light in the evening

And I try

Just to sit to your breathing

We call it the ghaoil

Dressed up for free and poked holes in the rent

Forgot about lent

Young audacity our first line of defence

And it was dance

Just like we used to in Rosslare to Van

In that very same dress

In Paris what city will I see you in next?

And you were right

There's this light in the evening

And I try

Just to sit to your breathing