She’s blonde solid, had been the one he’d follow anywhere;
He’s blond experimental, the one who isn’t all done with her.
She goes to Florida, and she’s gone in sunshine, gone to hot times.
He goes to Canada, and he’s got the midnight sun, got the arctic clime.
Part of him that’s not done with her goes to her in dreams.
Part of him that dreams of her is inner poet and dancer.
His speechless poetry is in the dance…
Nothing more to say to her.
And when he comes awake from the dream-dance,
There’s the brunet man – second chance.