Who are these who know themselves?
No apologies, no regrets
I know myself less the older I get
Apologies and regrets, they are my epaulets
They are my epaulets
The memory is unkind to me
Life seems to dream itself by
I've waited so long to be waiting here still
As the sun goes down behind the hill
In Girlsville
In Girlsville
The sun goes down on Girlsville
The sun goes down on Girlsville