I fell in love last night, at one of those parties.
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You know, the ones they have all the time.
Perhaps you weren't invited...
I went with friends, or maybe I met them on the way.
I can't remember. We arrived together.
Their friends were having a party. Exactly who I why I never knew,
or asked or cared for whens and wherefors.
The mood was fine.
All of us drank beer just like it was Moet's day off - we didn't mind,
He hadn't had one for a while and we revelled in this,
Slumming it with designer ales and knowing it as an act of our benevolence.
A small apartment. They have those here, they're chic.
They had switched languages again in the kitchen,
and I had lost the trail of conversation, in German.
The music wasn't right for dancing yet
So even though I do not smoke I did, you see,
Because there was nothing left to do.
So I smoked. Which always makes me fall in love with everything
and everyone and life.
Glancing off the balcony I talk too much
About this charming view which is, in fact, a neon sign.
And fell in love, again, with everyone and everthing that didn't care.
You must know, that those like me never care
For those that show an interest.
I fell in love with the one with the joie de vivre
That didn't care at all, or understand that I was special.
And the other one, I don't know, was that one tired?
or maybe only tired of me and this inane conversation?
It doesn't matter, it is my perogative to be inane,
As it is yours to feel precisely as you will.
And mine again to burden others because, for that drunken instant
I was in love, and I enjoyed it.
And then we all went home and all was quiet again inside my mind.
I shall do it again, while I enjoy it.
I think that think that this inanity
And love, again, at nothing in particular,
Is to my taste.