You’re twenty years too old for the fragrances you wear your face a map of tragedy drawn by those who didn’t care no one can remember the shade your hair was then and no one gives a damn least not your string of men Will you come and tell your story when the drink has eased your mind ? Will you drop the weight you carry if someone would just be kind? Would you ever learn to trust me or is it all too late for that ? You have to run away again in case it all falls flat There’s a hand held out to you again , but strange places scare you still And a place for you to be yourself, , as if you ever will “You” By radicalrabit..
Back in the day you had been part of the smart set You'd holidayed with kings, dined out with starlets From London to New York, Cap Ferrat to Capri In perfume by Chanel and clothes by Givenchy You sipped camparis with David and Peter At Noel's parties by Lake Geneva Scaling the dizzy heights of high society Armed only with a cheque-book and a family tree You chased the sun around the Cote d'Azur Until the light of youth became obscured And left you on your own and in the shade An English lady of a certain age And if a nice young man would buy you a drink You'd say with a conspiratorial wink "You wouldn't think that I was seventy" And he'd say,"no, you couldn't be!" You had to marry someone very very rich So that you might be kept in the style to which You had all of your life been accustomed to But that the socialists had taxed away from you You gave him children, a girl and a boy To keep your sanity a nanny was employed And when the time came they were sent away Well that was simply what you did in those days You chased the sun around the Cote d'Azur Until the light of youth became obscured And left you on your own and in the shade An English lady of a certain age And if a nice young man would buy you a drink You'd say with a conspiratorial wink "You wouldn't think that I was sixty three" And he'd say,"no, you couldn't be! Your son's in stocks and bonds and lives back in Surrey Flies down once in a while and leaves in a hurry Your daughter never finished her finishing school Married a strange young man of whom you don't approve Your husband's hollow heart gave out one Christmas Day He left the villa to his mistress in Marseilles And so you come here to escape your little flat Hoping someone will fill your glass and let you chat about how You chased the sun around the Cote d'Azur Until the light of youth became obscured And left you all alone and in the shade An English lady of a certain age And if a nice young man would buy you a drink You'd say with a conspiratorial wink "You wouldn't think that I was fifty three" And he'd say,"no, you couldn't be! 'An English Lady Of A Certain Age', The Divine Comedy (Hannon)
