French Kissing Life
written by: Nancy Richy
@shewrites51
There is a place somewhere called Paris
And I’m going there on vacation today;
A city where every useless worry or care is
Forgotten and carelessly tossed away.
I don’t need to see the Eiffel Tower
Or wander through old Notre Dame.
I’d rather pick a delicate wildflower
And caress a charming man’s arm.
I’d love to stroll through Pére Lachaise,
Have a chat at the grave of Jim Morrison.
I’d play him some tunes like Jimi’s “Purple Haze,’’
Talking about old times and just having fun.
I’ll stay away from the Seine for dinner;
Much too highbrow and touristy for me.
Seat me at the bar with the saint or sinner;
We’ll close the place down at quarter past three.
Mona Lisa is lovely hanging on that wall so fine
But the thought of the Louvre is a total bore.
I’d have much for fun in a park drinking wine
Or sharing a smoke on a bench with a whore.
I admit it and I’ll let you in on a little secret:
When it comes to Parisian men I’m a big flirt.
The playboys in the square whisper “Come, be my pet”
And I say “Oui, oui, mon cheri! Who will it hurt?”
There is a place somewhere called Paris
And I’m going there on vacation today.
I will give life a warm lingering French kiss;
When I’m in Paris I like to do things my way!
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