Le Décompte Final
One more week.
One more week of pain au chocolate, and croissants, and baguettes.
One more weeks of macarons, cups of chocolate, and French yogurt and cheese.
One more week of paninis, nutella, speculoos, and creme de marron.
One more week parlant français.
One more week thinking that every step I'm taking is being taken on la terre français.
One more week of L'Arch de Triomphe, Musee Carnavalet, La Tour Eiffel, Les Champs Élysées, les Jardins Tuileries, and walking along La Seine.
There comes a time for everyone to find a place where they belong,
feeling alone out on the ocean.
Yours and mine are different, yet the same.
Go out and back again, harboring most of the emotion.
You climb aboard and sail away beyond the stars of everyday,
searching for some clear direction.
The shore gets closer every day, and clouds begin to fade
the compass reveals your destination.
Quand tu arrives a Paris, tu ne veux pas partir.
Quand tu arrives a Paris, tu ne peux que sentir,
l'amour, la joie.
Tu veux jamais rentrer;
L'amour, la joie,
tu veux jamais rentrer chez toi.