When you were bartending,
It is true I was not in love,
At the time my father was telling me the difference
Between it and infatuation,
In the unlikely case you care to remember,
I was quiet and shy because I disagreed.
When you were bartending,
The whisper in my ear directed at him
Was like a flirt at the same time,
While I then knew you had a confidant,
I later reasoned,
She whispered in my ear as well,
As though it was not over between us.
Perhaps he is your brother,
Or so I thought,
Though it's over between us.
You leaned against the wall
As if to say give it to me,
Though he was watching your side from that angle,
And I knew you had a boyfriend,
From then on my imagination has played tricks,
Sometimes to the point,
That love is hate.
And 1984 isn't a mere book.
It is true I was not in love,
At the time my father was telling me the difference
Between it and infatuation,
In the unlikely case you care to remember,
I was quiet and shy because I disagreed.
When you were bartending,
The whisper in my ear directed at him
Was like a flirt at the same time,
While I then knew you had a confidant,
I later reasoned,
She whispered in my ear as well,
As though it was not over between us.
Perhaps he is your brother,
Or so I thought,
Though it's over between us.
You leaned against the wall
As if to say give it to me,
Though he was watching your side from that angle,
And I knew you had a boyfriend,
From then on my imagination has played tricks,
Sometimes to the point,
That love is hate.
And 1984 isn't a mere book.
