I watched you, board the ferry from Calais,
   tears streaming down both of our faces,
   so much I could no longer determine
   the colour of your eyes.

   I stayed, until the ferry set sail over the
   English channel and then I turned my
  back. I got into my car and leant my head
  against something much like you were
  probably doing.

   I drove back to the hotel we booked together,
   a lonely drive back down to Paris to the hotel
   but now you aren't there making constant jokes
   as you tried to speak french (which you still can't).

But somewhere in the back of our minds,
We'll always have the place we met,
And the place we parted.

We'll always have Paris.