Paris 1919 Lyrics - Paris 1919 - John Cale

She makes me so unsure of myself 

Standing there but never ever talking sense 

Just a visitor you see 

So much wanting to be seen 

She'd open up the door and vaguely carry us away 

It's the customary thing to say or do 

To a disappointed proud man in his grief 

And on Fridays she'd be there 

But on Mondays not at all 

Just casually appearing from the clock across the hall 

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You're a ghost la la la 

You're a ghost 

I'm in the church and I've come 

To claim you with my iron drum 

la la la 

The Continent's just fallen in disgrace 

William William William Rogers put it in its place 

Blood and tears from old Japan 

Caravans and lots of jam and maids of honor 

singing crying singing tediously 

Photos 

Efficiency efficiency they say 

Get to know your job and tell the time of day 

As the crowds begin complaining 

How the Beaujolais is raining 

Down on darkened meetings on the Champs Elysee