In a green dress she danced   like a net in the water   swaying off the coast   of South Carolina      Like a pickled princess dancing,   Like the lost queen of Ireland   like a story told again,   like a new best friend      with silly drunken chatter   it was all I could do to look at her   and when the wedding was over   I had to get out of there      and the night air was cold   like whiskey in your throat   and I thought I saw her everywhere   as I bicycled home      no mingling of limbs,   cause she moved to England    no mingling of limbs,   cause she moved to England