My bones are weak,

Brittle and frail.

My eyes are heavy

From filling a sea.

My heart is slow

My legs are weak.

I dream of picking daisies

Somewhere in the south of France,

Where the blue birds sing

On a sweet, soft breeze.

I dream his hand is intertwined in mine.

His smile glitters in the morning sun,

Yellow and creamy,

Bright and young.

In Paris my bones are strong,

My eyes are wide awake.

In Paris my head is held high.

In Paris there’s no reason to cry.

The flowered fields are alive with bliss,

The rolling hills stand up strong,

And blue birds sing their joyous song!

In Paris I wear a light pink dress,

One dotted with little white polka dots.

I dance in lushes greens underneath the sparkling blue sky.

I twirl and I swirl

I leap and run

In Paris I’m out in the sun.

Her kindness shines down

Warm on my face

Like my dear mother’s embrace.

In Paris I smile.

In Paris I love.

To Paris I’ll fly as a dove.