The Parisians

A necklace is love, a ring is love
A rock from some obnoxious little king is love
A diamond-studded star is love
An ugly black cigar is love
Everything you are is love
You would think it would embarrass
All the people here in Paris
To be thinking every minute of love
I don’t understand the Parisians
Making love every time they get the chance
I don’t understand the Parisians
Wasting every lovely night on romance
Any time, and under every tree in town
They’re in session two by two
What a crime, with all there is to see in town
They can’t find something else to do
I don’t understand how Parisians
Never tire of walking hand in hand
But they seem to love it
And speak highly of it
I don’t understand the Parisians
I don’t understand the Parisians
Making all this to-do about La’more
I don’t understand the Parisians
All this la-di-da is so immature
When it’s warm, they take a carriage ride at night
Close their eyes, and hug, and kiss
When It’s cold, they simply move inside at night
There must be more to life than this
I don’t understand the Parisians
Thinking love’s so miraculous and grand
But they rave about it, and won’t live without it
I don’t understand the Parisians