Budapest Ian Anderson

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 cozy 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 lеgs went on for ever
Likе staring up at infinity
Through a wisp of cotton panty
Along a skin of satin sea
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