Oh you, 

old thing. 

Still got vibrations 

in your streets. 

They move me to come down 

from the chandelier 

I have been watching you from. 



Bon soir, 

bon soir ma ville. 

I'm gonna leave you now 

in the arms of babes. 



I've got a new way to live 

through the storms you're so famous for - 

oh, that's the sound of some new rocket 

upon the door. 



Who's gonna steam up all your dancehalls? 

Who'll put your lilies in a vase, 

when all the good men have had all their daughters, and 

all the other men have fallen in with daises? 

I don't want to be the last one standing, 

I don't want to reach the bitter end. 

As much as I have always loved your dancing, 

I hate the sounds that come from crowds 

that just don't get 

my moves. 



From here, 

in the sky, 

I see rows of lgihts 

as as violent web. 

And I will miss 

the way I got caught up in you. 



Oh you, 

old thing. 



I'm gonna leave you now 

in the arms of babes. 

I've got a new way to live 

in the storm, in the storm 

in the storm.