oh well, there were lots of drinks
bloody mary, screws, margaritas,
name it you have it, and lots of friends
and lovers, and newcomers on the rise
and on the go, there were names and
pseudonyms, but what matters most
were the looks and come-what-may
i like you babe, tease me, tease me,
oh, those younger days of yore,
got layed, and got drunk and got
what you got, carefree, making lots
of loves, not once a war, and then
there was this intimacy that
never gets out of your system,
like a flush of a dream, like a
perfume that refuses to get
off my skin, and i called her
after that night of fun and her
name is 'angel' and she's
just into a deep sleep and
i woke her up and she said
'who the devil are you? '
gosh, i thought love is
a many splendored thing.
be strong, there wasn't any.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem