(Cello intro)      (Basonova intro)      Afternoons on the Rue de Flores   In the flat that I shared with Gertrude   We served tea and got drunk on conversations   With the lost generation she found.      Hemingway, Picasso and Matisse   Janet Flanders and Sylvia Beach.   We were searching for unknown destinations   We were desperate to reach.      We said au revoir, [lyrics in brackets are disputable ..]   We carved our dreams,   To invent the world, it seems,   As life unraveled at the seams,      But oh ....      When Paris was a woman,   When Paris was a woman,   When Paris was a woman,   She loved so well.      How the smoke and opinions would fly!   Life was art, art was life, or else die ..   So we cared for each word and every color    Like a bud on the way to its bloom.      As the days blended into the nights,   How we savoured our city of lights -   And we knew it wouldn't last forever,   But my God what a ride!      When Paris was a woman,   When Paris was a woman,   When Paris was a woman,   She loved so well.   She loved so well.      My Gertrude -   She was my shepherdess,   My Pyrenees.   With eagle eyes, a mountain range was she.   She so loved me.   We so loved.       When Paris was a woman ...      (Guitar solo)      The escapades,   The rigolos.   The geniuses,   The gigolos.   The legacy we left ...   Who knows?      But oh ...      When Paris was a woman,   When Paris was a woman,   When Paris was a woman,   She loved so well.   She loved so well.   We loved.      When Paris was a woman,   When Paris was a woman,   When Paris was a woman,   She loved so well.