Memory of Paris, I woke up to rain, on a different street now,
A different horizon, a different skyline somehow.
But the smell of espresso still makes my heart go astray,
Back to a cobblestone corner, so far away.
The city of whispers, where the river runs slow,
It took my hand gently, and just wouldn't let go.

(Chorus)
Oh, a memory of Paris, a fever of light,
A ghost in my heart, in the middle of the night.
Just a memory of Paris, a place I can't find,
But it lives on forever, in the corners of my mind.

The artists were painting on the old, winding hill,
Sketches of faces, that stand frozen and still.
We watched from a table, as the sun went down low,
On the latticed iron lady, in the amber streetglow.
And every streetlamp was a bead on a string,
A little light of wonder, on a beautiful thing.

(Chorus)

They say that a city is just made of stone,
But some places will never let you go home.
And no matter the miles, or the time that has passed,
The feeling of that place was just meant to last.

Just a memory of Paris...
A place in my heart, in the middle of the night.
Just a memory of Paris...
Oh, a fever of light.