I'd spend all night singing along with frogs, in the dark, where is my place. Sitting on the old trunk, far from being comfortable, wet grass on my feet, waiting for the sunrise, as if it coming from the lake, spreading its rays, painting them all over the forest, entering the muddy hut where I saw you for the first time.
   It was a Saturday night. In the sky, the stars were dancing the country songs from your radio. Mud, party, beer, boots, hats... The only thing that was there and I that didn't know was you.
   You whispered that we should have been presented before and that you were looking for someone real. You should keep looking, but without taking your eyes off me, or break our kiss and tear apart our lips.
   Maybe it's too early to ask why wouldn't we last much longer ? Now, my only real worry is to cover myself to get away from the cold.

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