All the loving, the worry and fear.

Where are the tears that flowed so freely?

Where are the snows of yesteryear?

3

Even if you learn quite quickly

How to sell yourself and smile

Selling sex for cash is strictly

Not a lot of fun,

But you get it done

Though you’re getting older all the while.

(After all, you can’t be seventeen forever.)

Just thank Christ the whole thing’s quickly over

All the loving, the worry and fear.

Where are the tears that flowed so freely?

Where are the snows of yesteryear?

THE MADAM’S SONG

Oh, you know how people say a red moon

Shining on the water makes the girls go weak

And you’ve heard how all the ladies swoon

For a handsome bloke. Believe me, it’s a joke!

I’ve seen girls with hearts on fire

But their thoughts were on—something higher.

Though it may not seem polite:

Decent girls will quickly tire

Of a gentleman who’s tight,

Yet they can be quite adoring

If you learn to treat them right.

Money makes a girl feel sexy—

It’s as true as it is trite.

So tell me, what’s the use of a red moon

Shining on the water, if you’re stony broke?

Handsome men don’t have a silver lining:

When they’re out of cash, believe me it’s no joke.

I’ve seen girls with hearts on fire

But their thoughts were on—something higher.

Though it may not seem polite:

Don’t imagine you’ll inspire

All that passion and delight

Till the girl has had her breakfast.

No my friend, that’s just not right.

Food is good, and money’s sexy—

It’s as true as it is trite.

SONG OF THE WIDOW IN LOVE

Oh I know I never should admit

That I tremble when he touches me

Oh however did I get like this

That I pray he’ll lead me where he wants to be.

Sin’s a thing wild horses wouldn’t drag me to

If I didn’t want him the way I do.

When I fought against love like I did

Let’s be honest it was because without a doubt

Once I stand before him half-naked

He will strip me, he will clean me out.

Will he care when I reproach him? No.

If only I didn’t want him the way I do.

I’m not sure that he is worthy of me

And is it really love he feels and when

He has gobbled up my savings won’t he

Chuck the leavings of me in the bin?

Oh I know why I’ve told him no till now:

If only I didn’t want him the way I do.

If I’d had a pennyworth of sense

I’d never have given him what (alas) he begged me for

I’d have slapped him round the head at once

If he—which he did—came too close and went too far

I wish he’d clear off where I told him to!

(If only I didn’t want him the way I do.)

THE ACTRESS IN EXILE

(to Helene Weigel)