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lyrics
Here we are in gay Paris
Harry, Marie-Antoinette and me
And for the moment I’m her king
Just while she waits for the real thing
And in the rain Place Pompidou
Harry and me we sing our songs
To a rampant crowd of one or two
When who but who should chance along?
It’s Ed, Ed is at the Ritz
With his perfect smile and his chiselled lips
Ed, Ed is at the Ritz
With his perfect shoulders and their golden chips
But we, ah we, we are much too poor
We spend our nights Hotel Belfort
We spend our days with one guitar
Between ourselves, between each bar
While in the Cafe des Artistes
Ed and Marie-Antoinette
Are talking Klimt and Toulouse Lautrec
And Monet’s Lilies and Rodin’s Kiss
But we are much too thick for that
We just sing ourselves as hoarse as hell
Harry sings Roy Orbison
And me, well I sing Jacky Brel
But Ed is singing songs of love
Strumming on his credit card
I’d like to sing those songs as well
But Dad’s fucked off and times are hard
But not for Ed, Ed is at the Ritz
Drinking champagne and eating caviar
Ed, Ed is at the Ritz
Drinking beaujolais and eating steak tartare
But we, ah we, we are much too poor
We spend our nights Hotel Belfort
We spend our days with one guitar
Between ourselves, between each bar
While in the Cafe des Poetes
Ed and Marie-Antoinette
Are talking Keats and Baudelaire
And such elan and quelle finesse
But we are much too proud for that
We just sing ourselves as hoarse as hell
Harry sings his ‘Unconscious Mind’
And me, well I sing Jacky Brel
But Ed is singing songs of love
Strumming on his credit card
I'd like to sing those songs as well
But Dad’s fucked off and times are hard
But not for Ed, Ed is at the Ritz
With its golden taps and its marble stairs
Ed, Ed is at the Ritz
With his mobile phone and his stocks and shares
But we, ah we, we are much too poor
We spend our nights Hotel Belfort
We spend our days with one guitar
Between ourselves, between each bar
While in the Cafe des Amoureux
Ed and Marie-Antoinette
Are talking love and holding hands
And dreaming nights of untold bliss
But we are much too shy for that
We just sing ourselves as hoarse as hell
Harry sings Cosi Fan Tutti
And me, I’m still singing Jacky Brel
But Ed is singing songs of love
About how much he’s getting hard
Now Marie-Antoinette has got
Her lips stuck round his credit card
For we, ah we, we are much too poor
We spend our nights Hotel Belfort
And times are hard and life’s a bitch
Now Ed and Marie-Antoinette
Are staying at the Ritz
supported by 5 fans who also own “Ed Is At The Ritz”
Lyrically on point. And actually as catchy as f***!
I can't get Han Solo out of my head. "Who's gonna tell Han Solo that no means no?" Love this! ("And don't get me started on James Bond.") 🤣 Gareth Williams
supported by 4 fans who also own “Ed Is At The Ritz”
It's the hope. Through the sadness and anger at the current state of the world, Grace seems to sing hope and belief that people can, and want to, do better, and build something where we all fit. voxdumnonia
