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.
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