In the cold streets of Limoges we roam,

bundled up in winter hats and coats,

venturing out of our temporary homes

---

we gaze at high cathedral gargoyles of stone,

a religious palace missing only a moat

and in the cold streets of Limoges we roam

---

With sticky accents and families on loan,

we enter the morning where the fog seems to float

venturing out of our temporary homes

---

I run my hands over the smooth porcelain dome

of a teapot, at a factory worthy of note

and in the cold streets of Limoges we roam.

---

We think of our true families, in another time zone

wonder when they'll get the letters we wrote

and we venture out of our temporary homes.

---

From across the seas we've come,

nervous tears catching in our throats,

in the cold streets of Limoges we roam

venturing out of our temporary homes.