Paris in My Mouth

[Verse 1]
Out of the bakery, paper warm in my hand
One baguette leaning like a flag for the band
Two croissants folded in a brown little sleeve
Flaky crumbs falling down my coat as I leave

I turn by the fountain, hear the scooters complain
A copper roof flashes after last night’s rain
You said, “Meet me at Les Halles, don’t be late”
So I pace past the windows with a mouthful of fate

[Pre-Chorus]
Paris keeps moving, I move with the crowd
Bread in my pocket, my footsteps loud
No grand revelation, no map in the blue
Just a little sweet trouble carrying me to you

[Chorus]
I’m walking to Les Halles, bite by bite
Croissant on my fingers, afternoon light
A baguette like a rhythm, a heart like a drum
Aroma therapy waiting when the shopping’s done

I’m walking to Les Halles, don’t slow me down
Past the market glass and the underground town
If the whole world spins, let it spin where it’s from
I’ve got Paris in my mouth and a place I’m headed to

[Verse 2]
At the crossing, a florist ties green to a wire
A bus sighs twice and disappears in the choir
I taste butter and salt, hear the avenue bend
Every block is a postcard I refuse to send

Inside the center, bright signs rise and fall
I’m hunting for lavender, cedar, something small
A bottle for the evenings, a balm for the head
A quiet little remedy for the words left unsaid

[Pre-Chorus]
The escalator tumbles in a seven-step chain
My thoughts take the stairs and come back again
No grand revelation, no map in the blue
Just a little sweet trouble carrying me to you

[Chorus]
I’m walking to Les Halles, bite by bite
Croissant on my fingers, afternoon light
A baguette like a rhythm, a heart like a drum
Aroma therapy waiting when the shopping’s done

I’m walking to Les Halles, don’t slow me down
Past the market glass and the underground town
If the whole world spins, let it spin where it’s from
I’ve got Paris in my mouth and a place I’m headed to

[Bridge]
Marimba steps through the tiled arcade
Fretless notes slide where the old plans fade
I find a little bottle, rosemary and rain
You laugh at the crumbs still stuck to my sleeve again

Maybe healing isn’t clean or profound
Maybe it’s butter and a familiar sound
Maybe the cure is a long way around
With both hands full and both feet on the ground

[Final Chorus]
I’m walking to Les Halles, bite by bite
Croissant on my fingers, afternoon light
A baguette like a rhythm, a heart like a drum
Aroma therapy waiting when the shopping’s done

I’m walking to Les Halles, don’t slow me down
Past the market glass and the underground town
If the whole world spins, let it spin where it’s from
I’ve got Paris in my mouth and a place I’m headed to

[Outro]
One baguette, two croissants, one bottle in my hand
Les Halles keeps turning like a bright brass band
I take the long way home, crumbs marking the route
Paris tastes better when I’m walking it out