Somehow my Helen died
A year before the war
So I drank up
And I married Claire
But it don’t much matter anymore
Cause I can’t take a picture
These old eyes are worn
They’re worn

I’ve lied to myself before
And I guess that’s like lying to god
But I loved her before I loved you
And there’s something to be said
For the first wife that’s dead
And I can’t take a picture
These old eyes are worn
No I can’t take a picture these old eyes are worn

But on with this life
You can cut me
Where I used to shine
I look dull around the edges
But I’m doing fine
I’m going fine

I can’t take a picture
These old eyes are worn.

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