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
