Paris - Patrick Wolf

It was seven in the morning when the spark

Began to give

The bath was spilling over, my self pity spilling with it

So I, I fled the country to start it all again

And I found myself in Paris in the cemetery rain

Dear anne came to me and took me by the arm

Showed me old disasters embedded in the palm

Warned me of a lady with the sun behind her head

With a a granite neck, a singer who can never sing again

But you, my love:

You must come, come to joy, turn your head to the sun

Its down to you, you can shine

You can shake all the sorrow from your palm.

It’s down to you if you dare to come to joy

What was it i ran from, what burnt away inside?

Four hundred schoolboys and a lawyer at my side

Always running with these legs going nowhere

A ghost in the system, and angel on the stairs…

But oh!

This time…

I shall turn, turn my head to the sun.

They are marching out of me.

One by one

Walking free.

Oh!

It’s going out of…

Oh!

I can feel it moving, this time, yeah.

I’m really moving

Now, are you ready to come, come to joy

Turn your head to the sun it’s down to you, you can shine, you can give it up

It’s all down to you, hold the key in your hands, it’s all in your hands

It’s all in the palm of your hands.

(x4)