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