Camel in disrepair
Hoping for a frigidaire
to come passing by
I am on reprieve
Lacking my joie de vive
Missing my g@y paris
In this desert dry
And I wrote my girl
Told her I would not return
Terribly taken a turn
For the worse now I fear
It's been a year or more
Since they shipped me to this foreign shore
Fighting in a foreign war
So far away from my home
If only summer rain would fall
On the houses and the boulevards
And the side walk bagatelles it's like a dream
With the roar of cars
And the lulling of the cafe bars,
The sweetly sleeping sweeping of the Seine.
Lord I don't know if I'll ever be back again. |