She was a raver Queen

dancing all around

playing with fire

and I was a boy with a mutilated

taste, a mutilated way of feeling.

So we danced and she was the most beautiful

girl of the night. I wasn’t a poet yet.

Do I was one? And she plays with fire

and course my soul

and charmed my eyes, my sight,

and she danced as the most beautiful

girl that night.

I was afraid too

bored too

relaxed too

and she was the most beautiful

as my memory told me.

She hugged one guy

she was with him,

and I was destroyed

and no one cares about that.

The light wasn’t real

she wasn’t real

nothing is real since that night.