I was dreaming about Paris,
Paris in the rain
Watching the boats from the Pont Neuf
As I was walking by the Seine

Bumped into someone called Blondine
Who got me acting like a dunce
She really seemed to know her way around
She seemed to be all women at once

I was doing my best Bonjour-sil-vous-plait-routine
But was it was all going to hell
I was speaking in mangled, strangled Franglais
And bad broken French as well

I was dreaming I was in the Latin quarter
When something happened in my head
I thought “Why live and let live
When you can kill everyone instead?”

What are you doing out here on a Friday night,
So light of heart and laughing so loud?
It’s unholy to be so free and easy
You must be an enemy of God

My God is vengeful, my God is spiteful
My God is cold, as cold as stone
My God’s better than your God
My God loves no one but His own