Lament.

The choice was mine, and mine completely
I could have any prize that I desired
I could burn with the splendor of the brightest fire
Or else, or else I could choose time

Remember I was very young then
And a year was forever and a day
So what use could fifty, sixty, seventy be?
I saw the lights, and I was on my way

And how I lived, how they shone
But how soon the lights were gone

Lament - Evita

Så känner jag idag.