London on a nonchalant summer night,
opened my eyes in a dreamy sight:
undressed walking in the street with your eyes on my back...
You murmur, don't be bare as it's cold outside.
the Atlantic between us is vast and blasé
I wonder if It is just lust like the summer haze
You drift away yet I still
follow you to a bench at Parnassus
and at Moffitt I hear your voice
your mind trace my flawless body I sense
But enter my dream you never since
wake up calm I wrote down this