They call it, "The City of Love," but I can't seem to understand why.
Especially when it's four in the morning and you're in someone else's bed.
And I'm drunk in the streets.
Visiting all the places we've gone in hopes I'd see you, like I was in Hollywood looking for a celebrity.
It's called, "The City of Love," and it makes sense because I still love you.
And now you're in another bed, making love to someone else.