all that is open is the window   i hold out my hand to the rain   the tracks are glistening in shadow   the ties, the steel, and the train   stand in the cold at the station   though it really isn't you at all   the snare of infatuation   the desperate ledge of a fall      chorus:   take the night train to paris   hoping to escape all the rules   take the night train to paris   you hopelessly romantic fool      oftentimes love is a pageant   of kings and queens and of pawns   more often love it seems stagnant   the subject of tedious yawns   the theatre, the alleys of vision   the characters waiting to strike .   the collectors of garbage and wisdom   who catalogue all that is not right      i waited for the cafes to open   i watched pigeons peck in the rain   that endless rain of confusion   the cat in my lap did the same   i hated to disturb her slumber   sleeping so peacefully through the night   the unfinished letter lay crumpled   an unfinished heart has its price