"For Franoise Hardy at the Seine's edge, giant shadow of Notre Dame seeks t'grab my foot, Sorbonne students whirl by on thin bicycles swirlin' life like colors of leather, spin the breeze yawns food far from the bellies or 'er hard meetin' Johnson piles of lovers fishing kissing lay themselves on their books. boats. old men clothed in curly mustaches float on the benches, blankets of tourist in bright red nylon shirts with straw hats of ambassadors (cannot hear nixon's dawg bark now) will sail away as the sun goes down the doors of the river are open, I must remember that I too play the guitar, it's easy t'stand here more lovers pass on motorcycles roped together from the walls of the water then I look across t'what they call the right bank an' envy your trumpet player" - Bob Dylan
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