France

France
The ideal girl,
In London from France
Came Over and left me,
She left me entranced
Now I have to get by,
Once again on my own,
Nothing but memories

See I remember your eyes,
In their dark shade of brown,
While these blue eyes of mine,
They stay closed
I kissed you goodby on the M-109
I choked as I watched the bus go, oh-oh
Choking and smoking to your angelic soul,
Choking and smoking myself into a hole,
Where the only way out is to sleep and to dream,
And to cry out your na-a-ame