You have too many stairs. And strange men loitering about who try to tie woven bracelets around my wrist, promising "you beautiful girl, you marry your true love". Also, a definite surplus of cheap souvenirs and mediocre crepe stands.
However, I did like your hilly cobblestone roads, and you know the benefits of a bright splash of color here and there.
Now and then, I even caught shades of Amelie wandering your streets -- this girl certainly was an admirer of yours; I watched as she took pictures of you, finding your pretty spots.
The art congesting your town square leaves much to be desired, but the artists themselves do have a certain flair. I took a fancy to this man's pipe (also he reminds me of my college Russian Literature professor).
By the way, you have one of the dodgiest Metro lines I've ridden. But I guess that's part of your grimy charm.
I will grant that you have one of the best views in Paris, and the earnest musician singing on your steps nearly won me over. Just, be a little sunnier next time, okay?