she changes in voice and in thought, always a lovely, pretty face,
in tears or in laughter, she’s untrue.
Woman is flighty. Like a feather in the wind,
she changes in voice and in thought, and in thought, and in thought!
Always miserable is he who trusts her,
he who confides in her his unwary heart! Yet one never feels fully happy
who from that bosom does not drink love!
Woman is flighty. Like a feather in the wind,
she changes her words, and her thoughts, and her thoughts!
And you wonder why I don’t like opera.
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