Paris

It was a friday night,

no big deal, Like any other,

City flashing' with lights,

Unaware of the coming sufferin

 

Who could have predicted such a despicable crime

It's such a struggle for me to put it into a rhyme

Who knew the city of love would be the city of death

129 innocent gone, without a warning or threat

As they took their last breath,

what kind of world were they leaving?

One filled with bombs, shots, no end in sight to the grieving?