The Lady of Paris has fallen.

Half a world away, I sit on the ground, and weep for beauty broken.

Lady of Paris, ochone.

For what I have never seen, I raise now a lament.

Lady of Paris, ochone.

I raise a lament for the forest felled, for 800 years: ash, now, ember and ash.

Lady of Paris, ochone.

I raise a lament for the stones that stood, for the hands that wrought.

Lady of Paris, ochone.

People of Paris, that weep in the streets, with you I raise my lament.

The Lady of Paris has fallen.

Ochone, ochone, ochone.