I used to visit
|
all the very gay places
|
Those come
|
what may places
|
Where one relaxes
|
on the axis of the wheel of life
|
To get the feel of life
|
from jazz and cocktails
|
The girls I knew had sad
|
and sullen grey faces
|
With distingue traces
|
That used to be there
|
you could see where they'd
|
been washed away
|
By too many through the day
|
twelve o'clock tales
|
Then you came along
|
with your siren song
|
To tempt me to madness
|
I thought for a while
|
that your poignant smile
|
Was tinged with the sadness
|
of a great love for me
|
Ah yes I was wrong
|
again I was wrong
|
Life is lonely again
|
And only last year everything
|
seemed so sure
|
Now life is awful again
|
A trough full of hearts
|
could only be a bore
|
A week in Paris
|
could ease the bite of it
|
All I care is to smile
|
in spite of it
|
I'll forget you I will
|
While yet you are still
|
burning inside my brain
|
Romance is mush
|
stifling those who strive
|
So I'll live a lush life
|
in some small dive
|
And there I'll be
|
While I rot
|
With the rest of those
|
whose lives are lonely too
|
|
-----------------
|
Lush Life
|
| Linda Ronstadt/Nelson Riddle |
