I think she was a middle-distance runner
(the translation wasn't clear).
Could be a budding stately hero.
International competition in a year.
She was a good enough reason for a party
(well, you couldn't keep up on a hard track mile)
while she ran a perfect circle.
And she wore a perfect smile
in Budapest hot night in Budapest.
We had to cozzy up in the old gymnasium
dusting off the mandolins and checking on the gear.
She was helping out at the back-stage
stopping hearts and chilling beer.
Yes, and her legs went on for ever.
Like staring up at infinity
through a wisp of cotton panty
along a skin of satin sea.
in Budapest hot night in Budapest.
You could cut the heat, peel it back with the wrong side of a knife.
Feel it blowing from the sidefills.
Feel like you were playing for your life
(if not the money).
hot night in Budapest.
SAME PART 1
She didn't speak much English language
(she didn't speak much anyway).
She wouldn't make love, but she could make good sandwich
and she poured sweet wine before we played.
Hey, Budapest, cha, cha, cha. Let's watch her now.