When I was most beautiful,
Cities were falling
And from unexpected places
Blue sky was seen
When I was most beautiful
People around me were killed
And for paint and powder I lost the chance
When I was most beautiful
Nobody gave me kind gifts.
Men knew only to salute
And went away.
When I was most beautiful
My country lost the war
I paraded the main street
With my blouse sleeves rolled high
When I was most beautiful
Jazz overflowed the radio;
I broke the prohibition against smoking;
Sweet music of another land!
When I was most beautiful
I was most unhappy
I was quite absurd
I was quite lonely
That's why I decided to live long
Like Monsieur Rouault,
Who was a
Very old man,
When he painted such terribly beautiful pictures,
You see...?
Writer(s): Peter Seeger
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