She wears black shoes and puts a smile of innocence upon her lips,
In September she comes along the maze of white tulips.
Somehow ejected outta snow-covered dreams,
I’m giving her a cigarette instead of sweet ice creams.
Two hundred minutes a week I spend with her in a humid room,
I kissed her soft ‘n’ silky cheek, fast heartbeat cleared the gloom.
Her beauty’s so distracting, her hair is like a waterfall,
One day maybe she’ll kindly leave those keys to her soul.
She returned a book to the library on Lexington Avenue,
Now it’s dying there in lonesomeness, as little did it knew,
That even being inanimate you still get hypnotized:
One single time touched by her hand – you are forever mesmerized.