Maybe I’ll Go To Paris

by Mike P. Ryan

Genre: Americana/Country


Verse 1
He twists the cap and the beer bottle whispers hello
He goes outside and he sits down on his patio
And the night it is quiet there’s barely a sound
Just the rustle of leaves as they blow across the ground
So he closes his eyes and he thinks of a time long ago
When he was a young man and his life was a wide open road
And his broad young shoulders were strong enough to carry the load
But the days of his youth seem a lifetime away,
He got a job and a family, and bills he must pay
So he thinks out loud and he speaks in a voice soft and low

Chorus 1
Maybe I’ll go to Paris, and leave all my worries behind
Maybe I could feel young again, without all on these things my mind
I’ll write songs and paint pictures, and live by a sidewalk café
Maybe I’ll go to Paris and forget all my troubles some day

Verse 2
Well, a harvest moon rises and thousands of stars fill the sky
And off in the distance he hears a whippoorwill cry
And he thinks of how simple his life used to be
When loved a young girl with eyes green as the sea
And he wonders where she is, and what if he called her tonight

Chorus 2
Maybe she’d come to Paris, and leave all her worries behind
Maybe we could feel young again without all these things on our minds
We’ll write songs and paint pictures, and live by a sidewalk café
Maybe she’ll come to Paris and we’ll forget all our troubles someday

And his truck’s burnin’ oil
and the kitchen roof leaks when it rains
And down at his job
well they’re talkin’ about lay-offs again
And his daughter’s new boyfriend,
well, he’s from the wrong side of town
And his shoulders feel heavy as life’s burdens they weigh him down

Verse 3
Now Its well after midnight when he makes his way back inside
His wife and his family, they’re sound asleep for the night
And no matter what plans he might make in his mind
He knows in his heart he won’t leave them behind
So he’ll stay right here and keep tryin’ to do what is right

No I won’t go to Paris, cause I can’t leave all this behind
Everything here depends on me and I ain’t the run-away kind
Guess I’ll just have to settle, for post cards of sidewalk cafés
No I won’t go to Paris, no matter what my heart might say


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