Sitting here on this lonely terrace,
Autumn leaves like sparkling bandages---
If someone would have told me, my dear,
That I'd end up here...
Well, I guess we'll never know.
Dean Martin had it right---
You're no one until you feel that special light
And like magic in the air
I remember when we two were a pair.
Cup of coffee in my hands...
It warms me more than fingers ever can.
But in the distance she stands so tall---
Cold metal and romance entwined
Oh Paris burns frost in the fall...
Sitting here all alone with my books,
You told me once this was how I would look---
Trapped within yesterday's cruel webs
Unable to trust love again.
Maybe you were right...
But tonight, sweet Paris at night
I'll sing a little song, to put things to right---
I'll raise a glass of red wine
The type Mr. Martin idolized...
And when my head tilts back to sup...
I'll know I'm drinking you down.
So tomorrow, when I sit here,
With you in my veins---
I'll remember the cold of your hands
The ones that made our chilly romance.