We’ll Always Have Paris

Are you packed? Have you got everything?
I don’t want to find little bits of you
Hidden all around the place
No little bottle in the bathroom with the Active Lipizomes
And finding one of your ratty sports-bra’s
Under the sofa in six months time
Would be too much for me to deal with

Don’t go. I know, I know we’ve been all through this
But when push comes to shove it’s bloody hard letting go of you
This isn’t light and controlled, like we said it would be
I’m holding on to you so tight that when the taxi comes
We’re gonna have to cut my hands off at the wrist

Who knows, you husband may have fallen under a bus…
Ok, I’m sorry. I’m sure he must be a good chap
But it seems to me that living your life
Entirely for other people
Is as bad and wrong as living your life
Entirely for yourself…

Yes, you’re right, no letters
No cards, no phone calls either
This thing must end here…

But suppose he runs off with his blonde twenty-two-year-old secretary
You know what to do, just jump on the plane and come back to me
Bring the kids, bring that cats, bring the whole damn shooting-match
Your dear old, silver-haired, Lithuanian granny as well
You’ll know where I’ll be

What’s he say in the film?
‘We’ll always have Paris’
Don’t cry. You never cry, you told me
Now is that the same one where she says
‘Don’t reach for the moon, we have the stars’?
You’re right, that was Bette Davis…
Oh Christ, the taxi’s here…