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How Insensitive Lyrics
How insensitive
I must have seemed
When she told me that she loved me
How unnerved and cold
I must have seemed
When she told me so sincerely
Why she must have asked
Did I just turn and stare in icy silence
What was I to say?
What can you say
When a love affair is over?
Why she must have asked
Did I just turn and stare in icy silence
What was I to say?
What can you say
When a love affair is over?
So now she’s gone away
And I’m alone
With a memory of her last look
Vague and drawn and sad
I see it still
All the heartbreak in her last look
How she must have asked,
Could I just turn and stare in icy silence
What was I to do?
What can one do
When a love affair is over?
I must have seemed
When she told me that she loved me
How unnerved and cold
I must have seemed
When she told me so sincerely
Why she must have asked
Did I just turn and stare in icy silence
What was I to say?
What can you say
When a love affair is over?
Did I just turn and stare in icy silence
What was I to say?
What can you say
When a love affair is over?
And I’m alone
With a memory of her last look
Vague and drawn and sad
I see it still
All the heartbreak in her last look
How she must have asked,
Could I just turn and stare in icy silence
What was I to do?
What can one do
When a love affair is over?
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Written by Antonio Carlos Jobin, Sting recorded this with him on Red Hot and Rio--lovely song--great cd.
A girl at the deli counter gave this to us and when I heard it, I thought in amusement, so maybe the landfill of crazy chatter didn't pass from me to the incinerator but then I recalled I have a tendency to leap to conclusions and just settled down.
Insensatez was written by Jobim and Vinicius de Moraes, and the title means "insensitive, thoughtless." It's also known by it's English title, "How Insensitive.”
It is very aggravating to hear the blasted prating Of the dickheads who are stating that dear Horace was a prude When we know that with the ladies He was always raising Hades And with many an escapade His best productions are imbued
Miniver Cheevy—child of scorn Grew lean while he assailed the seasons He wept that he had ever been born And of course he had some damn good reasons Miniver loved the days of old When eyes were bright and hearts were prancing The vision of some sugarplum bold Would set his heart a dancing Miniver mourned the ripe renown That made his name so fragrant He mourned romance—now on the town And love—he called a vagrant Miniver scorned the fame he sought But sore-annoyed he was without it Miniver thought and thought and thought and thought and thought about it Miniver Cheevy—born to bright fame Scratched his head and kept on thinking His study partner coughed and said—isn’t this insane? Laughing to herself, she kept on shrinking
Eugene Field—The Truth About Horace and E.A. Robinson—Miniver Cheevy Paraphrased