Of course, there are the wars of Ireland
And the tribes without music
Of course, all this lack of tenderness
And there is no more America
Of course, money has no smell
But no smell gets up your nose
Of course, we walk on flowers, but
But, to see a friend cry

Of course, there are our defeats
And then death that is at the end
Our bodies are already bowing their heads
Surprised to still be standing
Of course, unfaithful women
And the murdered birds
Of course, our hearts lose their wings, but
But, to see a friend cry

Of course, these exhausted cities
By these fifty-year-old children
Our inability to help them
And our loves that have a toothache
Of course, time that goes too fast
These subways filled with drowned people
The truth that avoids us, but
But, to see a friend cry

Of course, our mirrors are honest
Neither the courage to be Jewish
Nor the elegance to be black
We think we're wick, we're only tallow
And all these men who are our brothers
So much so that we're no longer surprised
That, out of love, they tear us apart, but
But, to see a friend cry

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