Rue Monge looked so lovely in the snow
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Both hands in my pockets
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Full of holes in my beige pants
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Had I put on the ugliest one
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I bumped into you without really expecting it
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Yet at the same time we had a date
And you came to take them
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The hands I was hiding
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That my hands were cold
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I was shivering and lagging behind
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You mustn't have found them that cold
Because despite everything
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You kept them in yours
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We walked toward Rue des Écoles
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We sat down at the back of a bistro
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I laid out a crazy theory to you
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You were smiling, narrowing your dark eyes
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That I could see even without looking at them
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You stood up, paid at the counter
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That my hands were cold
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I was shivering and lagging behind
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You mustn't have found them that cold
Because despite everything
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You kept them in yours
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We went to your room on the 6th floor
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I'd planned to read you poems
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You put on an old Billy Paul record
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I fell silent and read the lyrics
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You had a few drops of Madeira left
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I said not too much, you poured me a glass
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And just as I was about to taste it
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You smiled at me and kissed me
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That my hands were cold
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I was trembling and felt like a fool
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You mustn't have found them that cold
Because despite everything
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You left them under your sweater
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You said, "Man, I like your manners"
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And I said I know a poem
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You smiled, turned off the light
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You slipped an "I love you" in my ear
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I should've said something sweet and nice
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But I just said nothing at all
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Then gently you pressed against me
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It belongs only to us
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That my hands were cold
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I was trembling but felt good
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You mustn't have found them that cold
Because despite everything
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You left them on your breasts