I head for the bridge,
I cross it as under the bridge the boats pass,
and on this river the traffic never stops,
on this river the traffic never stops,
and I walk with visions in my mind,
visions of croissants,
and coffee in a cup,
and I am dressed up,
dressed up in a light coat and hat by the Seine,
dressed up and in Paris yet again,
in Paris yet again,
and I walk fast and quickly I reach the cafe,
je manger mon cheri,
je manger mon cheri,
the waitress says in French,
and I reply Oui,
Oui,
and then I ask,
Madame,
avez-vous des croissants s'il vous plait,
et du jus d'orange dans un verre et du thé,
and she nods and smiles, and she goes away,
and I have a smile on my face,
and I am proud of my little French today,
I am proud of my little French today,
and I can sit here quite happily all day, at the cafe,
with a newspaper to read,
and I can sit here quite happily all day,
watching the river flow past,
and the boats,
the boats,
which I observe in my own quiet way,
and I watch and wait for my croissants,
and the jus d'orange,
and the du thé,
and I wait as the sun shines down upon me,
and I think of the Champs-elysees,
and the gardens of Versailles,
and I think,
of the restaurants at night,
and the Chardonnay,
and I watch,
as a man shrugs animatedly,
across the road at the market,
and haggles over some fruit,
and a pair of ladies,
they kiss each other on both cheeks,
and chat away,
and the waitress brings me my drinks,
and I think of the dusty books,
in the bookshop of Shakespeare and company,
as I drink the d'orange and the du thé,
and I people watch,
as they go by,
and they live out their lives,
on the stage,
the stage,
upon which they play.