Shall we get a train to Paris?
It’s a place I’ve never been.
It’s so close and quick to visit,
boxing ticks I haven’t seen.
We can drink in all the places
our heroes wrote their songs
and eat lots of strange foods,
pretending that we belong.
At home we can look back,
talk of it like Bowie in Berlin.
I’ll get out my drunken lyrics
we’ll never attempt to sing.
Let us get a train to Paris,
for two days of lunacy not love,
drinking glasses of gin for breakfast,
seeing faces in clouds above.