Since I reached
the charming age of puberty
and began to finger feminine curls,
like a show that's typically sugar tea,
I have always had a multitude of girls.
But now that I'm married,
man, at last am I
How aware of my dear depar
ted past am I
Where is the life that late I led?
Where is it now, totally dead?
Where is the fun I used to find?
Where has it gone, gone with the wind?
A married life may all be well,
but raising an heir
could never compare
with raising a bit of hell.
So I repeat what first I said,
where is the life that laid high?
In dear Milano, where are you, Momo?
Still selling those pictures
of the scriptures in the Duomo
And Carolina, where are you, Lina?
Still peddling your pizza
in the streets of Taormina
And in Firenze, where are you, Alice?
Still there in your pretty,
itty -bitty pity palace
And sweet Lucretia, so young and gay
What scandalous doings
in the ruins of Pompeii
Where is the life that late I led?
Where is it now?
Totally dead.
Where is the fun I used to find?
Where has it gone?
Gone with the wind.
The mar riage game is quite all right.
Yes, during the day it's easy to play,
but oh, what a bore at night.
So I repeat what first I said.
Where is the life that laid by?
Where is Rebecca,
my becky wecky -o?
Could still she be cruising
that amusing Ponte Vecchio?
Where is Fedora,
the wild virago?
It's lucky I missed her gangster sister
from Chicago.
Where is Phoenicia,
who loved to chat so?
Could still she be drinkin'
in her stinkin' pink palazzo?
And lovely Lisa, where are you, Lisa?
You gave a new meaning
to the leaning tower of Pisa.
Where is the life that late I led?
Where is it now, totally dead?
Where is the fun I used to find?
Why has it gone, gone with the wind?
I've oft been told of nuptial bliss,
But what do you do a quarter to two
with only a shrew to kiss
so I repeat what first I said
Where is the life