i was in the mood for dancing, but i cannae dance,
17 and have rubber legs and concrete feet,
you 18 and dance a minstrel, jester treat.
we looked and got hooked on the sweet retreat
and home made sushi,
i danced anyway.
and stroked your hand, you told me a carefree whisper
and blew a raspberry, you are really tall and your
favourite pastime is sipping latte and reading,
do you like the ocean, the sea, the waves that wave at me
while cold air takes me anywhere but there and the fear
of feeling alone here, my dancing boy, annoy and freefall
into my arms.