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.