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Supposing she agrees to come
To Paris with me in July,
It sounds like all I've ever waited for...
So why am I feeling so shy?

Two nights in the City of Lovers;
It could be magical or a disaster,
Even the thought of spending time with her
Is causing my helpless heart to beat faster,

We could wander around the town centre,
And feel smug that we understand signs,
Making fun of the people who pass us,
As she pendantically sips at French wines,

If we happened to discover a nightclub,
And she insisted she wanted to stay,
Then all evening I'd dance with my darling,
And I'd get her back safe the next day,

She's not one to savour sightseeing,
And heights can sometimes make her cower,
But holding her hand, I'd still take her
To see the view from the Eiffel Tower,

She can act as mature as she wants to,
But I know that she loves Disneyland,
And since nobody cares to come with us,
We could play even longer than planned,

Yet beneath all this thrill I'm still worried,
And if she agrees to come, petrified,
For I know we don't share what we used to,
But perhaps I could bridge our divide?

But how can I fill the space between us
When I fear the gap is getting wider?
And how can I sleep for a moment
When all night I'll be lying beside her?

Well, I'll push those thoughts to one side now,
And concentrate on planning our trip,
I think she'd enjoy visiting the Louvre,
Though I shouldn't let this thoughtfulness slip,

And never under the Arc de Triomphe
Could I my soaring love concede,
But I'll have spent three days alone with her,
And that's enough triomphe for me.

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