Paris, Paris, Paris, Que Je Te Quitte

If there were a soundtrack to our nine months in Paris, the title track would have to be Camille's "Paris" off her début album, Le Sac des Filles (2002). (If you feel that the video's a disappointment, just scroll down and follow along with the lyrics while enjoying the irrepressible catchiness.)

In her sprightly, street music-inspired tune, we find lyrics that reflect all of our frustrations with daily life in the city - the endless months of winter and grisaille; the dirty sidewalks; the way even famous landmarks eventually seem normal (or worse, boring). 

Finies les balades le long du canal les escaliers des cartes postales c'est fini, Paris c'est décidé, je me barre finis le ciel gris, les matins moroses, on dit qu'à Toulouse les briques sont roses oh là-bas, Paris, les briques sont roses	No more canal-side strolls No more stairs, or postcards It's over, Paris I've decided, I'm leaving No more gray skies, downer mornings People say that in Toulouse, the bricks are pink Oh over there, Paris, the bricks are pink
{Refrain:} Paris, tu paries, Paris, que je te quitte que je change de cap, de capitale Paris, tu paries, Paris, que je te quitte je te plaque sur tes trottoirs sales	Paris, you bet, Paris, that I would leave you that I'd change capitals Paris, you bet, Paris, that I would leave you that I'd dump you on your dirty sidewalks
je connais trop ta bouche, bouche de métro les bateaux mouche et la couleur de l'eau c'est fini Paris, je les connais trop ici je m'ennuie, même quand vient la nuit on dit que Séville s'éveille à minuit là-bas, Paris, la ville s'éveille à minuit	I know too well your métro entrances the Seine tourist boats and the color of your water It's over, Paris, I know it all too well Here I'm bored, even at nighttime People say that Seville awakens at midnight Over there, Paris, the city awakens at midnight
{Refrain, x2} à Toulouse il a plu, à Séville j'ai trop bu à Rio j'ai eu le mal du pays oh pari perdu, je retourne vivre à Paris	In Toulouse it rained, in Seville I drank too much in Rio I got homesick I lost my bet, I'm coming back to live in Paris

Just like Camille, we experienced high times and low times, enthusiasm and regrets. Sometimes we felt like we were "over" the city, and then the city would invariably pull one over on us, revealing another secret or moment of unmatched beauty.

In the end, we've come to the same conclusion as Camille: we may have left Paris, but we can already tell that Paris will never quite leave us.