We packed up our books and our dishes
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Our dreams and your worsted wool suits
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We sailed on the 8th of December
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Farewell old Hudson River
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Here comes the sea
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And love was as new and as bright and as true
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When I loved you and you loved me
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Two steamer trunks in the carriage
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Safe arrival we cabled back home
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It was just a few days before Christmas
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We filled our stockings with wishes
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And walked for hours
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Arm and arm through the rain, to the glassed-in cafe
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That held us like hot house flowers
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Living in Paris, in attics and garrets
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Where the coal merchants climb every stair
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The dance hall next door is filled with sailors and whores
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And the music floats up through the air
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There's Sancerre and oysters, cathedrals and cloisters
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And time with its unerring aim
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For now we can say we were lucky most days
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And throw a rose into the Seine
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Love is the greatest deceiver
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It hollows you out like a drum
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And suddenly nothing is certain
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As if all the clouds closed the curtains
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And blocked the sun
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And friends now are strangers in this city of dangers
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As cold and as cruel as they come
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Sometimes I look at old pictures
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And smile at how happy we were
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How easy it was to be hungry
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It wasn't for fame or for money
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It was for love
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Now my copper hair's grey as the stone on the quay
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In the city where magic was
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Living in Paris, in attics and garrets
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Where the coal merchants climb every stair
|
The dance hall next door is filled with sailors and whores
|
And the music floats up through the air
|
There's Sancerre and oysters, and Notre Dame's cloisters
|
And time with its unerring aim
|
And now we can say we were lucky most days
|
And throw a rose into the Seine
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And now I can say I was lucky most days
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And throw a rose into the Seine
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-----------------
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Mrs. Hemingway
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Mary Chapin Carpenter |