You used to draw the curtains,
then kiss me on my cheek;
we'd fall asleep wrapped in a ball.
But you left me just last week.
You opened wide the curtains,
said I was really weak,
refused the tickets to the ball,
and slapped me on my cheek.
I'm used to drawing the curtains
with a tear upon my cheek;
I curl myself into a ball,
for you left me just last week.
Tomorrow I'll dump the curtains,
for they remind me that I'm weak;
first I'll wrap them in a ball
and draw them to my cheek.