Golden light pours onto us
Like a baptism by dawn
This moment always feels holy
And I can hear Church bells ringing
But they haven’t woken you.
                     Thankfully.
Because the world is still now
Nothing matters but this.
And I can just gaze at you
In wonderment, in enchantment
Like a holy shrine
Blessed to everyone near you,
But still only mine.

When you wake up we’ll leave this place
Find Jacques or Pierre at the Cafe
He will already know our order
It will be the same as every other morning
I’ll read a newspaper
                   And say
real smart stuff about the economy,
Or war in the Middle East,
And hope you’re impressed,
And crack a joke here and there
So I can see your smile and hear you laugh.
I can’t see anything past that      
From lying here in our bedroom.

Beneath our window
On cobblestone streets
People are speaking French
We may never understand them,
But when we walk those streets,
                        We know.
They’re talking about
How beautiful we are
And of course how American too.
We’ll never fit in, but that’s okay
Because Paris is ours anyway
I see it when I look in your eyes
And nowhere’s ever felt more like home.