Almost Real

When a girl grows up in Napoli

There are roads laid out before her

And you understand, I'm speaking of

The times before the war

When a girl grows up in Napoli

She is more or less a target

For her mamma's expectations

For the boys' infatuations

All she gets is one decision

Will she give them what they want?

My sister Chiara wore tight-fitting sweaters, unbuttoned just so

Chiara would squeeze every drop of attention  wherever she'd go

Chiara said Cesca, you must be prepared

Chiara would act as though nobody cared

Chiara would laugh at me, quiet and scared

And I dreamed of a flat in Siena

On the market square

With a book and a pot and a window and a single chair

Far from lonesome, far from Chiara

Almost real

Paolo was a boy from down the hill with silver eyes and hair like coal

And massive hands that trembled when he looked my way

Paolo was a boy who loved to swim, and who knows why I fell for him

But soon enough I kissed him on a winter's day

Chiara said, Cesca, he's dull and he's dumb

You'll end up a farm wife, exhausted and numb

I'm off the the serviceman's club, you should come

But I dreamed of a beach at Ancona

Where our kids would play

Paolo right by my side, and the ocean

Only steps away

Close to heaven, far from Chiara

Almost real

Chiara went dancing while air raid sirens were shrieking

Chiara would open her legs just as easy as speaking

Paolo went off with the Army and never returned

And all that Chiara could say was, I hope now you've learned

And the streets were rubble

And the water was filthy

And there were no cigarettes

And no haircuts

And no thinking about the future

And I sat at the harbor

Watching the American ships

And then

I looked up and I saw an American smile down at me

And I knew if I just took his hand, I would at last be free

I could love him, I could want him

Only take me from Italia, far from Chiara

Far enough that I could feel almost real