Tired former beautiful girls pass through the city
From my sweet youth.
They hide wrinkles, they fight with weight loss,
Time invents evil traps for them
The best guys from the promenade, young lions,
Rowdy, good-for-nothing boys,
Now they are drivers, storekeepers,
They are hidden in dark taverns.
When I think about it,
It's my fault I live with it.
I had to move out,
To get lost a long time ago.
And never to come back,
To remember them like they were.
I had to move out
When I was twenty.
And for them, I was a guy with a guitar,
a little tsar, crazy bohemian.
A boy with a guitar, today a boy with earnings
Which separate him from everyone.
And when I think about it,
It's my fault I live with it.
I had to move out,
And to get lost a long time ago.
And never to come back,
To remember them like they were.
I had to move out
When I was twenty.