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.