C’est l’amour

 

Dream walker on the Champs Elysee

American girl she moves so easy

Every Frenchman compliments her style

 

Mademoiselle, pardon moi, would you join me up in mon boudoir

She smiles, declining, but she smiles

 

As the Frenchman shrug the shoulder

C’est l’amour

And the woman whispers back

Oui, c’est l’amour

 

Sweet April on the streets of Paris

Sweet Ohio girl named Harris

Never thought she would ever see the day

 

But that night she met with Jean Claud for a charming stroll through Montemartre

And after that a cognac and café

 

As the Frenchmen tend to say dear, c’est l’amour

As the Frenchmen say in spring dear, c’est l’amour

 

High in the Eiffel Tower moonlight bathes them

Half past the midnight hour she swears she loves him

But right there the dream walk stopped

When he said she can’t have him

Because he’s a married Frenchman

 

As the Frenchmen tend to say dear, c’est l’amour

And the woman shrugs the shoulders, c’est l’amour

 

So it ended over Paris for the mademoiselle named Harris

She went to France to find romance and oo-la-la she did

But she packed her bags next evening

 

Caught the first plane home to Cleveland with a souvenir of that continental year

A real French kiss-off

 

As the Frenchmen tend to say dear, c’est l’amour

As the Frenchmen say in spring dear, c’est l’amour

 

 ‘Cause that’s all you get, that’s all you’re ever gonna get

That’s all you get when you hear ‘em say

C’est l’amour

 

© 1984. Billy Marabella.

NOTES ON THIS SONG
I was fortunate to visit Paris once. It’s a beautiful city with prolific variety in its culture. I hope I don’t cheese it up and insult the Parisian life with this little story. I met the girl in Madrid at the university. I made some associative leaps to hook her up with a married French man, but she was from Cleveland, though her surname was not Harris. That was for the rhyme. She was lovely. Her given name was Carol.