It takes you hours now
To plaster on your makeup
To make your face lie
Tired, lined
Like it will take years
To rebuild the village
That swallowed up the bombs
If only you could still love
You were the most beautiful
And I don’t know
What could have happened just after he left
Your beauty self-destructed and even though I tried to believe in it
To stick back together the fragments scattered to chance
But you can't just stick back together the blown glass of Murano 1
You know how it is, the little bits hidden under the bed, under the piano
You know how it is, the little bits that one can never find
Oh my old girl of thirty years if only you could still love
I’m not making anything up
When I run my fingers through your hair
I’m not making anything up
When my lips seek to drink your lips
I’m not making anything up, I’m in love
When my fingers want to do a good job
I just do again what has been performed thousands of times before
Even by the one who pillaged everything before me
I’m just a good soldier, I’m just a good soldier
Did the soldiers invent war?
Did Casanova invent love?
These questions are the prayer to make you keep me always
Allow me this suffering, to love you like a fool
I know that one loves only once
Afterwards it’s just other encounters
Damn, all I have to offer
Damn, all I have to offer
Oh my old girl of thirty years
All that I have inside
All that I have to offer, if you knew
My old girl of thirty years
If only you could still love
1. Blown glass goods from the Venetian Island of Murano https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murano_glass