oh father how your face has grown old with defeat
oh sister your arms have become so gaunt

the men march below my window
a beam of light crosses my tattered dress
how can there be beauty at a time like this?

the store fronts are empty
just the soldiers in their black uniforms
feasting on all of the wine and banquettes
we aren't allowed to buy with our ration cards

the children walk with their faces towards the sidewalk
the babies never cry anymore
they've lost the energy for all of that

but the birds they still sing
that sad and lonesome song
"I would like to leave it all if I only could"
and we said quietly to one another
"C'est la fin"