When I was most beautiful
When I was most beautiful
Cities crumbled to nothing
And from outrageous places
I could see something like blue sky
When I was most beautiful
Many people around me died
At factories at
sea on uncharted islands
I lost my chance for paint and powder
When I was most beautiful
No one gave me a token of their affections
Men only knew how to salute
Leaving behind their innocent glances
When I was most beautiful
My head was empty and
My heart was obstinate
All my limbs shone chestnut brown
When I was most beautiful
My country lost the war
A crazy thing like that isn’t possible
I rolled up my sleeves and stomped around dejected streets
When I was most beautiful
Jazz poured from the radio
And with the giddiness of a relapsed smoker
I devoured the sweet music of another country
When I was most beautiful
I was very unhappy
I was filled with contradictions
I was absurdly lonely
So I decided if I
could, I would live a long life
Just like the French painter, Rouault
Who painted such beautiful pictures in his old age
you know?
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