Paris moves at its own slow rhythm Clinking glasses, warm bread in the air The sky fades into shades of amber As the night gently takes its place I saw you, or maybe I just believed it Through a door that closed too quickly In the pages of a book someone left behind Or in the ringing bell of a distant tram ("was it real?") Was it fate that blinked and let you slip away Or just a trick my mind decided to play? I searched for you in the voices at the market (“were you there?”) Among the flowers left on an old wooden table In the flickering lights on rooftops wet with rain But you were already somewhere else Or maybe, you were never here (“never here”) Maybe it was you crossing the street As a bicycle rushed between us I lifted my hand, I took one step closer But someone brushed my shoulder, and you were gone Was it fate that blinked and let you slip away Or just a trick my mind decided to play? I searched for you in the voices at the market (“were you there?”) Among the flowers left on an old wooden table In the flickering lights on rooftops wet with rain But you were already somewhere else Or maybe, you were never here (“never here”) [Bridge] (instrumental ) Paris moves at its own slow rhythm And I’m still here, left with the feeling That on another night, in another street Maybe… I’ll find you again (“find you again”)