Es Neesmu Dzeina Fonda

Water brought in and firewood stacked,
And now I can daydream,
About romances, fancy things,
About what I haven't been given.
About parties, about shiny clothes,
Fancy cars and those hopes,
That fade away, fade away, fade away, fade away leaving nothing behind.
I'm not Jane Fonda,
My dear Alain Delon,
It's not Paris, Rome, London,
My home is a clay shack.
There in winter, where the stoves are lit,
Shadow plays are performed.
I'm not Jane Fonda,
My dear Alain Delon.

Piglets in the pen, chickens and ducks,
And soon we'll butcher the bull,
Oh, dances and great love,
Where everything I haven't experienced is given,
Oh, parties and silk dresses,
Sweetheart, hold on and sing like that,
Everything fades away, fades away, fades away, fades away leaving nothing behind.

I'm not Jane Fonda,
My dear Alain Delon,
It's not Paris, Rome, London,
My home is a clay shack.
There in winter, where the stoves are lit,
Shadow plays are performed.
I'm not Jane Fonda,
My dear Alain Delon.