I found myself in Paris
She sat in mournful silence
By midnight came an outburst
so much louder than a cloudburst
She said
Make-up is a lie
All make-up
make-up is a lie
All make-up
make-up is a lie
All make-up is a lie
I soon returned to Paris
to the garret of the poet
In her mind of blank
reclusion
Until the same explosion
Make-up is a lie
All make-up
All make-up is a lie
All make-up
make-up is a lie
All make-up is a lie
Ten years passed in boredom
I made my way to Paris
to stand before her gravestone
I read the words in granite
One two three four five
Make-up is a lie
All make-up
make-up is a lie
Make-up is a lie
Make-up is a lie
All make-up is a lie
Make-up is a lie
All make-up
make-up is a lie
Make-up is a lie
Make-up is a lie
All make-up is a lie