Letras:
Paris The Days Of Old

wake up soon before we fold I miss the days of old. Damn...I miss the days of old. Listen...it ain't the same as the days of old.

with a God-lent grace I was close to coming when she bid adieu Fuelled by heartache rent upon her face there On Mina, obscener Thoughts obsess my days

Orient Pearl Danced all my sorrows away Paris Opera you called me back Daphnis London Festival The Rite of our Spring Then a Russian Fair with that old

the old owl, plus the Gold Child Seeing things like I was controlling, click rollin Trickin six digits on kicks and still holdin Trips to Paris, I civilized

the gold around your neck This is my manuscript to spit lyrics like fat spliffs I show the whole damn world my gift For Paris I'm speakin' upon Powerful

All of those wild american bilinguals Who talk to you in paris of their lonely lives School days and last days out there in the midwest They climb on

little town of Bethlehem We raise our glass, you bet your ass to La vie boheme La vie boheme La vie boheme La vie boheme La vie boheme To days of inspiration

Doper than the gold around your neck This is my manuscript to spit lyrics like fat spliffs I show the whole damn world my gift For Paris I'm speakin'

All of those wild American bilinguals Who talk to you in Paris of their lonely lives School days and last days out there in the Midwest They climb on