Early on, I ate the coach
With its rims, with its headlights
Then, I smoked a sedan
With pure gasoline refined gasoline
Paris, I like your diesel
The smell of your engine excitement
Paris, you are the capital
The letter P, in sound initial
Because you smell so good, summer
Under your leaden covering, suffer
That I have the fatal inspiration
You will be always romantic
Even in the time of peaks
Which tar your monuments
And make all the eyes of lovers cry
We have often sung about your bridges
Excessive accordion
For now, here are these cowards
Will praise your pollution peaks
Avenue Bel-air or on the quays
We would like to breathe in peace, when we know
That your gases are fatal
It makes this P smile, in the initial
Because you smell so good, the ©summer
Under your leaden screed, suffer
That I have the fatal inspiration
You will always be romantic
Even in the time of peaks
br/>Who tar your monuments
And make all the eyes of lovers cry
A P, like not seen, not taken
An A, like atmosphere
A R, like the good air of Paris
I, it's asphyxiation
And S, really good spirit
To make us inhale like this
Among the squares and alleys ©es
Such dangerous fumes
Because you smell so good, in summer
Under your leaden covering, suffer
That I have the fatal inspiration
You will always be romantic
Even in the time of the peaks
Who tar your monuments
And make all the eyes of lovers cry

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