Rue de la Guitare - Jimmy Buffett

A Sunday off in gay Paris

I was bound for the sacred street

God’s the draw up on Montmartre

But not Rue de la Guitare

Ne pas Rue de la Guitare

Like melodies that never fade

B-girls perform their masquerades

Pigale is still a strange bizarre

Down on Rue de la Guitare

Rue de la Guitare

Windows filled with long lost dreams

Unfinished songs on rusty strings

From Nazareth across the sea

She’d somehow caught up with me

Her fait accompli

I read the wood and felt the scars

They spoke of nights in smoky bars

How many songs, how many beers

Had caused her journey here

A toast to those who love to hear

A D-18 played Lightfoot clear

Music still lives in shops and bars

Along Rue de la Guitare

Rue de la Guitare

Now over here, people sing

«Comment ca va, monsieur Buffett?

Un verre de vin, une chanson a jouer»

Vive Rue de la Guitare