Nobody left in the airport lounge
They cleaned the ashtrays
TV´s just wound down
I´ve got to wait till morning
I´ve got to last the night
I´ve only got one book
To see me through my flight

But when I get to Paris
We´ll paint all our portraits
In brush-strokes of yellow
And christen the canvas
The left bank is crying
For colour to crown it
Like the roof of a palace
We´ll drink in the amber
When I get to Paris

You were the best of Montmartre Street life
You signed the tablecloth
Art has its price
It´s so hard to hold on
To the ghost of your breed
It takes ambition
To call the colours you need

I´ve got to wait till morning
I´ve got to last the night
I´ve only got one book
To see me through the flight