When I was young. way back in Sicily. you should have seen me. My hair then was long. There was this one young man. who always came around. and gave me this ribbon of velvet brown. Waiting for Valentino. His dark eyes lock on mine. Waiting for Valentino. Then you did what you were told. Married a cousin I didn't know. He'd fallen in love with my photograph. Oh why worked harder then I could bare. and he never seemed to care. I bore his only son at the end of that year. There is a place I can slip away to. out in the desert of sand and dune. My she's tan; she looks like a mirage. Someday I'll escape there like Scherazade. Waiting for Valentino. His dark eyes lock on mine. Waiting for Valentino. To carry me off through time. I had lived long as I can. Made three generations American. Now my daughter takes my hand. and whispers to me. There is a place I can slip away to. out in the desert of sand and dune. My she's tan; she looks like a mirage. Someday I'll escape there like Scherazade. Waiting for Valentino. His dark eyes lock on mine. Waiting for Valentino. To carry me off through time. To carry me off through time. To carry me off through time. To carry me off through time