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A necklace is love | a ring is love | a rock from some obnoxious little king is love | a sapphire with a 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 a chance | I don't understand the Parisians | wasting every lovely night on romance | anytime 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! (it) |
