(Cello intro)
(Basonova intro)
Afternoons on the Rue de Flores
In the flat that I shared with Gertrude
We served tea and got drunk on conversations
With the lost generation she found.
Hemingway, Picasso and Matisse
Janet Flanders and Sylvia Beach.
We were searching for unknown destinations
We were desperate to reach.
We [said au revoir?], [lyrics in brackets are disputable ..]
We carved our dreams,
To invent the world, it seems,
As life unraveled at the seams,
But oh ....
When Paris was a woman,
When Paris was a woman,
When Paris was a woman,
She loved so well.
All the smoke and opinions would fly!
Life was art, art was life, or else die ..
So we cared for each word and every color
Like a bug on the web [to explain]
As the days blended into the nights,
How we savoured our city of lights -
And we knew it wouldn't last forever,
But my god what a ride!
When Paris was a woman,
When Paris was a woman,
When Paris was a woman,
She loved so well.
She loved so well.
My Gertrude -
She was my shepherdess,
My Pyrenees.
With eagle eyes, a mountain range was she.
She sore loved me.
We sore loved.
When Paris was a woman ...
(Guitar solo)
The escapades,
The rigolos.
The geniuses,
The gigolos.
The legacy we left ...
Who knows?
But oh ...
When Paris was a woman,
When Paris was a woman,
When Paris was a woman,
She loved so well.
She loved so well.
We loved.
When Paris was a woman,
When Paris was a woman,
When Paris was a woman,
She loved so well.