I danced with a sad and very jovial lady in a black honorable dress chick to chick
We were gleeful in a present that never ends Our Friend was smiling in total love
We knew that tomorrow never comes
Spices took us for a march through labyrinthine of streets
Arranged and in chaos
I got so high I still linger in my dream
We where as always in a quarter that doesn't belong, that missed its name
A jazz café or shaking boat, a passionate masque , a story which is literal but never works
In Istanbul
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