| Well, we watched the starlings fly
|
| Around the burnt-down pier and die
|
| Spilled my coffee on my sleeve
|
| She wiped it with a smile
|
| And told me I was juvenile
|
| And kissed me softly on my cheek
|
| And her hair danced in the breeze
|
| Like a thousand swinging trees
|
| In a forest lying next to stormy seas
|
| Well, we watched the wintry sky
|
| Turn a shade of turquoise, I
|
| Whispered softly, «I feel lost,»
|
| She turned with laughing eyes
|
| And curled her lips towards the sky
|
| And said, «get your map out, then, you knob!»
|
| And we laughed like a pair of fools
|
| Like kids, they laugh at school
|
| And we wandered home before the day brought dusk |