So there's this girl I love
who lives in Boston
me too, told me she wanted to marry
told me that I was her husband
, then and there
But now she's in Boston
, too far for any relationship
Once again we're searching for other partners,
looking for another form of what we once had.
We had drunken laughs
on the streets of Venice
We had broken bones, broken hearts and a dying puppy.
Now I get drunk to forget and melancholy to remember,
Running after cokehead blondes, some ass for the night
and eyes to look into and find absolutely nothing,
nothing perturbing, nothing deep, nothing that touches.
I am not dead, I still remember feeling.