I
|
Is his hair still as long?
|
Are his eyes still as blue?
|
Can his face still conceal
|
Every clue to his mood?
|
Does his brow still display
|
Every beat of his heart?
|
Did he ask after me?
|
Did you send my regards?
|
|
CHORUS
|
Or did you tell him that I’ve died
|
in every way that matters?
|
And did you tell him how I cry
|
with every day that passes?
|
That I am raw and bruised and torn
|
That I can’t function any more
|
Well, did you tell him that?
|
|
II
|
Well I’d tell him myself
|
But I don’t have the nerve
|
And I know, to my shame,
|
This is all I deserve
|
But I hope for my sake
|
You were not indiscreet
|
If he asked how I was,
|
Hope you lied, through your teeth
|
|
REPEAT CHORUS
|
|
MIDDLE 8
|
And if he didn’t want to know
|
Oh, my friend, don’t tell me that
|
Did you never speak my name?
|
Did he never even ask?
|
|
REPEAT CHORUS
|
|
-----------------
|
DID YOU TELL HIM?
|
| Eleanor McEvoy |
