There was a harlot or two With nothing to do But to hiss at the passers by They talked about croquet And their boyfirends at war As the boys came two by two. The man-boys were there And sailing from port Loving girls of the night before They were beggars with money Their pocket watch gleamed And talked with their feet in time.
Sweet Das Vidania. So beautiful when you cry. Sweet Das Vidania We never stop saying goodbye
The women were old And wasted in years Of selling their goods on the street. They talked about nothing But the war that had come And the callouses plaguing their feet.
Sweet Das Vidania. So beautiful when you cry. Sweet Das Vidania We never stop saying goodbye
A streetlamp it glowed And showered us up With a drunken beam of despair He filled a church stairway With his person and things And slept to ignore his shoes
Sweet Das Vidania. So beautiful when you cry. Sweet Das Vidania We never stop saying goodbye