The Old Jacket
Words and music by B. Okudzhava
I’ve worn my jacket far too long,
It’s getting shabbier and frailer.
And so I take it to a tailor
To see if something can be done.
I tell him, “Now it’s up to you
To remedy the situation.
The magic art of alteration
Should make my life as good as new.”
It was a joke – but he takes on
The task with single-minded passion,
Bringing my jacket up to fashion
As best he can. The funny man.
He trims and sews without a word,
With such meticulous precision,
As if upon a sacred mission
To have my happiness restored
He thinks I’ll try the jacket on,
And then – the clouds will part above me,
And I’ll believe that you still love me…
Well, think again. The funny man.