The doors of Paris close, and in the streets the darkness grows. The night takes of her clothes, and laughs and cries and wakes all our desires. At night, the dark dreams ride on Paris heights, till dreams are satisfied. Till we have found all we require. On the bridge of dreams, A girl I saw, an angel seemed. The angel smiled, and then she disappeared, as I grew near. Through Paris streets I ran, the angel flew right through my hands. I thought of Paris night, I laughed and cried "night, opened up my eyes".