Words and music
By Ann Hampton Callaway

I want to be moody in Paris
I want to languish in some boulevard café
Because I'm watching someone French and gorgeous
Who at the perfect time stands up
And walks away
I want to be moody in Paris
And be surrounded by the beautiful and vain
I want pretension and major attitude
And I want new emotions I can learn to feign


I want to walk through Monmartre
With the angst of Jean Paul Sartre
As I recover from a love no longer mine
Let me pretend for a day
That I'm Ernest Hemingway
While feeling smug from having written
"One good line”

I want to be pensive in Paris
Along the bridges of the Seine I want to brood
Oh, let it rain and let Parisians snub me
Yes, if my French is merde then let them be tres rude
I just want to suffer in Paris
I want to chain smoke and write poems and make art
And make believe that life is just a bistro
Where you can order your emotions a la carte


I want to taste my regret in each bite of my baguette
As I devour ev'ry hour of life's charade
Let me drown ev'ry woe with a Beaujolais Nouveau
And you can bet I want to get café au lait-ed


I know the real me is the Bastille me
So French café me, Champs-Elysee me
Then crepe suzette me, broccoli floret me
Then Yves Montand me, oh Notre Dame me!

I want to be moody in Paris
I want to pretend to read Le Monde extremely well
And I want to indulge in the music of Paris
But please don't embarrass me with anything by Jacques Brel
Though the French cannot bear us
And intimidate and scare us
An American in Paris needs to be
On a spiritual vacation to the new lost generation
Gertrude Stein come to me
I have too much joie de vivre
I need to be moody in gay Paris!

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