Old Quebec City – Jeff Hampton, Writer

He boarded a plane at the airport in Dallas,
bound for Canadian skies.
Old Quebec City was his destination,
he was going to get himself right.
All battered and scarred from the wars of his life,
he’d lost all his strength and his smile.
But he heard Canadian French had a way,
that could help him forget for a while.

She was a waitress who worked at a cafe,
on the sidewalk inside the old walls.
Day after day she served hot tea and coffee,
’till it felt like no life at all.
One day while pouring another dark cup,
she heard a sad Texas drawl,
And when their eyes met there was magic between them,
no deeper in love could they fall.

With her hand in his, they strolled down the boardwalk,
And stopped by the Chateau to parler francais . . .
She said “Je t’aime,” I love you,
He said “Je fait,” I do too,
And there wasn’t much more they could say,
No there wasn’t much more they could say.

The Canadian sky was deep blue with the autumn,
the maples burned orange and red.
When sundown brought cold icy winds from the Arctic,
Aurora danced green overhead.
He took it all in as she showed him her city,
and taught him a French line or two.
In his broken francais, and her scattered anglais,
they vowed that they’d always be true.

The St. Lawrence rolls on and on,
Accordion man plays his song:
“Dieu reste avec l’amoreaux”
“God stay with these lovers wherever they go.”

He boarded a plane in Old Quebec City,
bound for American skies.
He was going back there, to close out his affairs,
and clean up the mess of his life.
And back at the cafe she poured tea and coffee,
and smiled as the days passed along.
Cause she knew that one day her spell would be broken,
by the sound of a sad Texas drawl.

Note: Written after a couple of trips in the early 1980s to Quebec City – one of the most beautiful, romantic cities in North America.