Lyrics

POCKETS OF PARIS / © 2014 James Barton
from the Down at Delomonico’s CD

It's up with the rooster, and down to the Metro
Shoulder to shoulder, just me and the players
Rattle out to Montmartre, struggle up the stairs
To Sacré-Coeur...for morning prayers

My boyfriend is waiting, he got no time for church
Out by the souvenirs, where we go to work
He’ll stand to the one side, while I stand in the way

And just a little bump...is all it takes
And the pockets
The pockets of Paris
The pockets of Paris provide

The mark starts to rummage, down in her satchel
In a dark empty hole where her wallet used to be
Panic, rage and sorrow, who'd want to do this?
In a city...she'd always loved

Like lambs to the slaughter the tourists return here
Wide-eyed and ignorant, with currency to burn
Never learned the language, barely speak a word
Arrogance...beyond absurd

But the pockets
The pockets of Paris
The pockets of Paris provide

This is a world for hard-working girls and boys
This is a place where an innocent face goes far
This is my world, Madame et Monsieur, comprends?
Enjoy all the sights in my city of light, bon soir

I leave the way I came here, swallowed by the masses
Down in the tunnels with the homebound hoi polloi
We sit in our kitchens, counting the receipts
Then off to bed... it's a school night

Times are tough all over and we do what we must do
Some will drive a taxi, others scrub the loo
But every honest citizen has larceny at heart
As for me... I just do my part

And let the pockets
The pockets of Paris
Let the pockets of Paris provide