I was wat­ching swans when I tho­ught of one I left. She was nothing more than not loving thorn any­way. „Still the one I love” was the song abo­ut on radio. But I’ve had eno­ugh of pla­to­nic love any­mo­re! And I tho­ught, I feared that the­re­’s noone near at all.

Then for dan­ces I’ve gone in coun­try unk­nown t’ha­ve some fun. And I dan­ced with some girl I did not know but who cares? She was only one who did want t’ha­ve fun just with me. Did­n’t know her much but I loved her touch in my hand. The­re was not a word that betwe­en we swap what a feel! And then in her arms for just lit­tle whi­le was so warm.

Now I think of her it’s iro­nic, the­re she­’s just left…