Beautyqueen

I'm drinking a glass of wine,
bitter, sweet finish, round.
would go perfect with my favorite dish.
I'm stuck in Italy, miles from home,
thinking about all things good.

So it doesn't really matter that I've lost my luck,
because I'm fine, done with strife, I've found my beauty queen at last.

she sleeping in, passing noon already,
she doesn't have a bra.
I admire her hair, and her beautiful lines,
could this really be happening?

so it doesn't really matter that I've lost my luck,
because I'm fine, done with strife, I've found my beauty queen at last.

lost the train, spilled my wine and my hair's a mess.
another stain, forgot what's mine, yet I've nothing to confess.

because I'm an ordinary man, with an extraordinary woman, life just don't get better than this.