Letras
Down the stairs to the underground
A rhythmic hum, a vintage sound
Line one is moving, slow and steady
I'm not in a rush, I'm not even ready
Just drifting through the yellow tile
Moving through the city's silver veins
Washing away the memories of rains
Past the art and the station lights
Singing the songs of Parisian nights
Riding till the morning remains
Free from the city's heavy chains
Face to face with a stranger's eyes
Beneath the morning's pale blue skies
A busker plays a wooden flute
The world outside is momentarily mute
We're traveling light, we're feeling high
Moving through the city's silver veins
Washing away the memories of rains
Past the art and the station lights
Singing the songs of Parisian nights
Riding till the morning remains
Free from the city's heavy chains