In the lonely streets I walk along the path,

A bottle of rum on my right hand accompanying me,

The wind blowing towards my direction,

As if I’m a wind storage device,

Gladly a rose stared at me to be precise,

Asked about my rum in terms of price,

My mouth went ajar the size of an elephant,

The rose was a she, bluish eyes like reflectors from the ocean,

Her interest over me were high, no bank can handle that,

The rum winked at me and told me drink me up,

Our lips started dancing the conversation,

She took my rum and finished it up,

Rum entered into her throat,

I thought even the bottle of rum will pass through her throat,

If that happened I would’ve called her a goat,

A goat fishing in a lonely boat,

She started freezing, I gave out my coat,

We are approaching the age of stars and the dry tree is still our chill spot,

Through all odds we fought,

We have gray hair but she’s still hot,

To love her I was never taught,

She my queen I don’t need to vote,

It was just that simple,

Coz at first sight she said hey,

I whispered in her ears which are small as an ant,

It all started with a hey.