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The former lover of my lover
Was a sophisticated Pole named Bolek
Not polite, heâd join Arthur and me for dinner
Looking distracted and thinner
Heâd take a bite of his rare delicious lamb chop
And say, âReally Billy this has gotta stop.â
Iâd say, âWhatâs gotta stop?â
Heâd say, âYouâre being a dick.â
Iâd say, âBolek.â
Heâd say, âBilly.â
Iâd say, âBolek.â
Heâd say, âWhat?â
That then was the night I knew that Bolek was sick
Heâd say, âWe got to go to Venice.
Because in Venice everyday lifeâs a work of art
And must be seen first hand.
Breathe deep, our destinationâs Venice.
Beauty and pleasure is all we can hope to understand.â
So Arthur says, âWhatâs wrong with Bolek?â
And I think finally he sees what I see
Huh? Whatâd I see? Well the truth is, it doesnât matter
All you have to know is he grew thinner, I grew fatter
And later on, as we strolled along down Broadway
Bolek thought he saw a gun and whacked a wacko in the ass
Bolek took off down the street
Chased by this dangerous guy
I yelled, âBolek.â
He kept fleeing
I yelled, âBolek!â
He yelled, âWhat?â
And then he turned around and then he sang to the sky
âMy friends, Iâm taking you to Venice.
Because in Venice everyday lifeâs a work of art
And must be seen first hand.
Breathe deep. The world revolves âround Venice.
Beauty and pleasure is all we can hope to understand.â
So we went to Venice
Jumped in the canals
Three unlikely pals
In Venice
St. Markâs Square
That is where
Weâd prepare
To be awed
Here in the city where I feel the presence of God
In truth, we never went to Venice
And we said we would, but Bolek died too quickly
Second truth, this, whatever it is, heâd hate it
He would mutter bourgeois shit and, âplease incinerate itâ
âOh go to hell Bolek,â Iâd yell like a madman
Of guys who liked me least, I liked him best
I see a gondola float, Bolekâs inside and at rest
Then the gondolier starts singing
Bolek joins in strong and deep
And all the worldâs in song just as I hum off to sleep
âMy friends, Iâm taking you to Venice.
Because in Venice everyday lifeâs a work of art
And must be seen first hand.
Life ends, but nothing ends in Venice.
Beauty and pleasure is all we can hope to understand.
Beauty and pleasure is all we can hope to understand.
In Venice,
Venice.â
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