Every time I look down on this timeless town. Whether blue or gray be her skies. Whether loud be her cheers or whether soft be her tears. More and more do I realize. . I love Paris in the springt
Too young to go steady, too young. I hear him say. (Her). He says I'm not ready. (She, we're). But then why am I feeling this way?. (Are we). . Too young, so he tells me. (She). He says we'l