Songtext In paris Elton John

In paris

Listen to me, let me speak of
Wondrous works of art
That dwell within that fabled city
Its architecture fills my heart

Let me tell you I have seen
Where great ideas are born
Illuminating all the darkness
In the corners of the world

Ask of me, I will tell you
Let your conscience be your guide
There's nothing but a hellhole here
While Paris waits, your virgin bride

Is it true, were you once a pupil
Of the great Mozart
It's true, but I was hopeless then
Clumsy as a horse and cart

Could it be I dreamt so long
To act upon the stage and sing
The footlights smoking at my feet
As curtains rise like velvet wings

Come with me, let me show you
The opera and the comedy
The Latin Quarter where the girls
Are raven haired and fancy free

you'll play the dashing rogues
And infiltrate the grand salons
And walk in wonder through the Louvre
Across the Seine to the Sorbonne

In cafes we will feed our heads
With absinthe and philosophy
Engage the students of Voltaire
And damn the aristocracy

chorus
In Paris the bells of Notre Dame ring out
In Paris we'll trade our soft voices for shout
I'll not rest until the ramparts of that city
Stand before us bright and clear
Penniless in Paris is better than the life we're leading here
In Paris we'll search for fame
In Paris we'll be born again
And though the streets aren't paved with gold
In Paris we'll put our trust
For Paris, she was made for us
Paris, she was made for us
In Paris we will liberate our souls

I've heard that there's infernal noise
The stench and cut-throats out to rob
The hungry crowds that fill the street
Where anarchy consumes the mob

And so there is, and in this life
There's always two sides to a coin
There's no adventure without danger
It's lions not sheep we're off to join

We'll rent a room above the din
Somewhere along the Boulevard
And find employment on the stage
The unwashed mass we'll disregard

And what of Marie Antoinette
She dances at the Palais Royal
Along with all the common folk
I hear they call her 'Louis Whore'

My friend the Monarchian God
Are out of touch and out of vogue
But can men live without belief
Change is coming so I'm told

Fashion there is everything
But still there is a call to science
It's time of reason, not suspicion
All nations worldwide look to France

And bright you'll shine, a brand new star
And I will play the violin
We'll take the city by the throat
And revel in it's glorious sin

Ring us wine us, raise a toast
To the eightteenth century man
We are the vintage of an era
Golden sons of Abraham

[repeat chorus]