Berl
It’s you and me, we meet by chance on a Middle Eastern spring night
It’s you and me, together with my very first Arak glass in a noisy bar nearby the Central Synagogue
It’s you and me, in a crowded concert in which I don’t understand anything but I meet a girl named Hannah whose grandma is from Venice
It’s you and me and a dog, in the apartment of your friend in which I discover the existence of pomelo

It’s you and me when we buy from a old man my first Israeli mezuzah
It’s you and me, walking through some quite narrow streets, surrounded by green trees looking at us while we are looking at us
It’s you and me, Bazooka gums and cinnamon tea
It’s you and me in a motel room, you take a photo of my tattoo after we reached the firmament, among the brightest stars of Ben Yehuda street
It’s you and me and when you laugh you make me laugh.
It’s you and me and when you walk next to me, you make me feel so good
It’s you and me in Breakfast club, I look at you dancing and you don’t know that you make me happy, then you take me to your big car and you sing a song to me.
It’s you and me in that tiny room, I can’t make love to you because I feel so good just looking at you, being with you, but damn I can’t tell you how I feel
It’s you and me, you text me something I don’t understand.
It’s you and me that rainy day in which after two long years I see you from far at Port Said and I pretend I didn’t. I slowly eat my french toast and I listen to my friend talking
It’s just me now and I want to say thank you.
