She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys that she calls friends
How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat
Some dance to remember, some dance to forget.
The memory of that last embrace, given with the same force of the first kiss she gave me. The memory of that joining of hands, which touched each other for all the time, hectic to know one another, eager to learn the shapes of the other ones and remember them forever. And unfortunately, it's happened...