文本歌词

Ballade At Thirty-Five - Carla Bruni (卡拉·布鲁尼)
This no song of ingenue
This no ballad of innocence
This the rhyme of a lady who
Followed ever her natural bents
This a solo of sapience
This a chantey of sophistry
This the sum of experiments
I loved them 'til they loved me
I loved them 'til they loved me
I loved them 'til they loved me
Decked in garments of sable hue
Daubed with ashes of myriad Lents
Wearing shower bouquets of rue
Walk I ever in penitence
Oft I roam as my heart repents
Through God's acres of memory
Marking stones in my reverence
I loved them 'til they loved me
I loved them 'til they loved me
I loved them 'til they loved me
Pictures pass me in long review
Marching columns of dead events
I was tender and often true
Ever a prey to coincidence
Always knew I the consequence
Always saw what the end would be
We're as nature has made us hence
I loved them 'til they loved me
I loved them 'til they loved me
I loved them 'til they loved me
Princes never I'd give offense
Won't you think of me tenderly
You're my strength and my weakness gents
This no song of ingenue
This no ballad of innocence
This the rhyme of a lady who