all that is open is the window
i hold out my hand to the rain
the tracks are glistening in shadow
the ties, the steel, and the train
stand in the cold at the station
though it really isn't you at all
the snare of infatuation
the desperate ledge of a fall

chorus:
take the night train to paris
hoping to escape all the rules
take the night train to paris
you hopelessly romantic fool

oftentimes love is a pageant
of kings and queens and of pawns
more often love it seems stagnant
the subject of tedious yawns
the theatre, the alleys of vision
the characters waiting to strike .
the collectors of garbage and wisdom
who catalogue all that is not right

i waited for the cafes to open
i watched pigeons peck in the rain
that endless rain of confusion
the cat in my lap did the same
i hated to disturb her slumber
sleeping so peacefully through the night
the unfinished letter lay crumpled
an unfinished heart has its price