Somehow my Helen died
A year before the war
So I drank up
And I married Claire
But it donÂ’t much matter anymore
Cause I canÂ’t take a picture
These old eyes are worn
TheyÂ’re worn
IÂ’ve lied to myself before
And I guess thatÂ’s like lying to god
But I loved her before I loved you
And thereÂ’s something to be said
For the first wife thatÂ’s dead
And I canÂ’t take a picture
These old eyes are worn
No I canÂ’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 IÂ’m doing fine
IÂ’m going fine
I canÂ’t take a picture
These old eyes are worn