Take a bus, who needs a car?
We'll eat here, close by the door.
I'm not hungry now, are you?
Is it OK if I share yours with you?
I've got no money and I think, I believe that you knew.

Remember the moon, on the water how she'd shine?
The taste of the sheets and the feel of the wine.
Wasn't I glad, that you were mine.
In the Grande Affaire?

Take a boat, or maybe a plane,
Anywhere now except Greece or Spain.
For, sure, I know where I am.
I see canals, this is Amsterdam.
I've got friends here, they know, they can say who I am.

Remember the room without any view?
Frightened we'd meet someone that we knew.
No farewells or how-do-you-dos.
In the Grande Affaire.

Now I've stay at the best hotels.
And there's white coated waiters attend me.
And I look at them beautiful girls.
Do they really believe they can win me?

Well, I drive, now it's seldom I walk.
I speak French, but I'd rather not talk.
Which suit will I wear tonight?
Take out the brown, but in the end wear the white.
After shade, stepping out, stepping into the light.

Remember the moon, on the water how she'd shine?
The year was all wrong, so we sent back the wine.
And wasn't I glad that you were mine.
In the Grande Affaire?

In the Grande Affaire.

__________________

Patricia

Writer/Composer

Ralph McTell (born Ralph May, 3 December 1944) is an English singer-songwriter and acoustic guitar player who has been an influential figure on the UK folk music scene since the 1960s.

__________________

Patricia

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