Nothing Toulouse - Pinewood Royal Poem by Guy-Paul Mitchell-Dwelly

The heat above the terracotta town
Turns the fields to golden brown
The bronzed men with raging thirst
Tend the vines fit to burst
With navy bêrets and Gauloise too
Exhale in a cloud of smokey blue
As poplars line the roads of France
Cicadas sing and midges dance
Oh! To be the one to choose but
I have nothing left
Toulouse

The pigeons on the tower clock
Deep inside the Languedoc
Through the window a mountain range
The blue volets make a welcome change
I know I could get things right
I have the knowledge burning bright
But alone the Sun and I propose
An evening in la Ville Rose
Oh! To be the one to choose but
I have nothing left
Toulouse

On the banks of the Garonne
I gaze across to the setting sun
Oh! to be rested here
But still I wait for an answer dear
So many others wish the same
But I must return from whence I came
One more trip on the Metro
As now it's time for me to go
For I was not the one to choose
But I really had nothing left
Toulouse