l'amour c'est de la merde

the circus are in Paris, I am in Paris, I am within his arms, and he holds me.

I have always wanted to see a clown, I have always wanted to ride a carousel. places with lots of lights, food with lots of sugar, and warm figures tightly pressed against mine, are just the recipe to forget you for a moment.
he is gentle and he is kind and he is just enough to distract me.
but I am, and oh so tragically, in the wrong arms.
we get into a cafe, a tiny one right next to the tent, and I order une chocolat chaud  with extra marchmellos, I am wrapped within a soft coat, and it is unbelievable, it is most unbelievable, that I am surrounded with all the beauties of the world, and all I could think about is you.