Roxette - It must have been love

Lay a whisper on my pillow
Leave the winter on the ground
I wake up lonely, is there a silence
In the bedroom and all around

Touch me now, I close my eyes
And dream away...

It must have been love, but it's over now
It must have been good, but I lost it somehow
It must have been love, but it's over now
From the moment we touched till the time had run out

Make believing we're together
That I'm sheltered by your heart
But in and outside I turn to water
Like a teardrop in your palm

And it's a hard winter's day
I dream away...

It must have been love, but it's over now
It was all that I wanted, now I'm living without
It must have been love, but it's over now
It's where the water flows, it's where the wind blows

It must have been love, but it's over now
It must have been good, but I lost it somehow
It must have been love, but it's over now
From the moment we touched till the time had run out

They ask me one question and I often end up giving at-least three answers.
Blah!

There are so many characters around me, am impressed.

The brown bottle at the side casts a dark shadow. He is a bad bad man.
The half open cupboard stores some big secret. She is so mysterious.
My stockings are madly in love with each other. Entwined. Honeymooning around. Love is busy.
The mosquito repellent has a bright head. Yeah, he is an intelligent chap.
My earphones lie messy. She is one big mess.
The two liter bottle mocks at the half-liter one. Yeah, he is a snob.
The half-liter bottle gives in. Argh, such a loser.
The pink bottle cares a damn for the other two. Ah! She is so confident.
My anklets make a sound, without my permission. Rebellious, I d say.

'She is too judgmental' They all say to themselves. Looking a me.

The breeze is busy... flowing past me to cool down my room-mate who is wiping her sweat in her sleep, in this hot summer night...
The crickets are occupied... Chit-chatting with the lone cow I see outside my window...
The ugly black bug is the busiest... buzzing around the night lamp and trying to conquer the artificial light...
The drunk man is walking on four legs, alcohol talking rubbish...
My stockings, hung on the chair, are romancing around with the air from the ceiling fan... They are performing a tiny bit of ballet around me...
Dogs are barking as they fight to impress the snobby bitch. She is one and they are five. Busy woman she is, looks like.
As the clock strikes 2.05 AM, so many things are doing so many things around me.
And me, am sinking in the feeling of having no purpose. Of having nothing to do.