Most of us probably know what power exchange in a relationship is (and for those who don't: get out more!), but it's seldom you see it taking place in a song. Even more unlikely that it should occur in the songwriting of a man who has become known as a pretty inoffensive pop singer/songwriter and balladeer, not exactly known for courting controversy. This song doesn't, either. Court controversy, that is. It appears on his third album and was in fact very well received at the time, being on the face of it a --- say it with me --- inoffensive pop ballad. But look into the lyric and there is something much deeper and even very slightly sinister going on.
A rainy night in Paris (Chris de Burgh) 1977 from the album At the end of a perfect day
Music and Lyrics by Chris de Burgh
It opens as a man breaks the sad news to his lover that he must leave her. They are standing on the Champs Elysee, and he has to leave the country. It's winter, and he reckons he won't return until the spring ---
”We'll meet again in Paris/When there are flowers on the Champs Elysee”. The girl is, naturally, worried that he will not return ---
”How long? She said. How long?/ And will your love be strong?/ When you're across the sea/ Will your heart remember me?” He reassures her he will come back. But then something strange happens.
In the second and closing verse, she realises this is a vain hope; he is not coming back (or she has convinced herself he is not) and though she mouths pretty promises to him ---
”And then, she said, and then/ Our love will grow again” --- he begins to see that she is not in earnest, that she has decided he is lost to her, does not trust him to come back to her, or has made the decision not to wait, perhaps in vain, for him, and has effectively ended the relationship.
”In her eyes he sees/ Her words of love/ Are only words to please” and by the time they part the man is convinced they will never be together again:
”I know by the lights of Paris/ I will never see her again.”
So it's a very interesting and quite startling exchange of power in the song. Initially, you have the man, trying to comfort the girl but determined to leave, promising to come back, and she all upset and doubtful. He is most definitely in control at this point. He reassures her and she wonders if she can trust him, is his love strong enough to sustain a long-distance relationship? Will he come back to her? But somewhere along the way, during the conversation, whether she sees something in his eyes, hears in it his tone or just simply decides she has had enough and is not going to be toyed with, the power dynamic shifts and she chooses to take the lead, not telling him that the romance is over, but making it clear via her platitudes or something in her eyes that she will not be waiting for him. The man is now in the position of having been dumped, effectively, when just prior to this he was doing the dumping. He is now the recipient of empty promises, and, whether he originally intended to come back or was just covering himself and trying to hedge his bets, he is now the one who is being played.
I've never quite seen such a transformation take place within a short time in a song, and for me, it lifts the songs out of the realm of ordinary ballad (though it's a fine one) and into a much murkier, darker world, which for Mr. Clean, Chris de Burgh, is unusual indeed.
”It's a rainy night in Paris
And the harbour lights are low.
He must leave his love in Paris
Before the winter snow.
On a lonely street in Paris
He held her close to say
“We'll meet again in Paris
When there are flowers on the Champs Elysee.”
“How long?” she said, “How long?
And will your love be strong?
When you're across the sea
Will your heart remember me?”
Then she gave him words to cling to
When the winter nights were long:
“Nous serons encore amoures
Avec le coleur du printemps.”
“And then,” she said, “and then
Our love will grow again.”
Ah, but in her eyes he sees
Her words of love are only words to please.
And now the lights of Paris
Grow dim and fade away
And I know by the lights of Paris
I will never see her again.