The Maine - Raining in paris

^CMidnight comes in ^AmParis ^Gand as ^CI light my cigarette The ^Amrain it hits my ^Gface ^CSo I start walking ^AmToward the ^GFerris wheel ^CFrom my hotel on ^AmChamps-Él^Gysées For ^Emnow I am ^Amalon^Fe I might ^Emalways be ^Amalon^Ge

My ^Fheart is in the city of ^Clove But it's raining in ^GParis ^FWhat good is a heart of ^Cgold With nobody to ^Gshare it with It's coming ^Fdown, it's coming ^Cdown My ^Amhead can ^Ghardly ^Fbare it My ^Fheart is in the city of ^Glove But it's raining in ^FParis

^AmSo let it ^Grain on ^Cme See my ^Amheart's on ^Gfire But I ^Calways got cold feet ^AmLove never ^Greally did ^Fany^Cthing for ^Gme ^AmTry telling that to this ^Ggoddamn cit^Cy ^AmAnd if the ^Gstorm should ^Cstop I'd ^Amask you to ^Gdance on some ^Ccliche mountain top ^AmWe'd share ^Gstraws at your ^Ffavorite ^Ccoffee s^Ghop But ^Amlife it ain't no ^Gromance novel

^CI met a man Who ^Amsold um^Gbrellas and ^C

saved ^Amme from all that ^Grain For ^Emnow I am ^Amalon^Fe I think I ^Emlike being ^Amalon^Ge