I bought a peach in Paris
Doesn’t that sound great–Paris
It was the best peach I ever tasted
The peach I bought in Paris.
Henry Miller might’ve eaten a peach that good.
Bresson, Vuillard, Jean-Paul Sartre.
Better men than we have killed for such a peach
The peach I bought in Paris.

I stood on a corner near St. Michel
Outside a brasserie called Le St. Andre
Two waiters were throwing a man out of the bar
The owner even came out to the sidewalk and kicked him

Quesque Jelavois
Jelate patique entre me vous…

I ate my peach, as a couple dressed entirely in black
Walked by smoking cigarettes and went down in Le Metro,
A Souvenirs de Paris t-shirt store was open behind me–
I didn’t even look at it

I finished my peach and dropped the pit on the ground
The peach I bought in Paris
The juice from the peach dried and made my fingers stick
Sticky with the peach-blood of France

Quesque Jelavois
Jelate patique entre me vous…

(lyrics: Dan Bern)