Forever Young, Forever Beautiful - Jens Lekman

In Milwaukee, I met a mountaineer

He told me how he’d taken an old lady from there

To one of those famous mountaintops

Where her husband once had perished and dropped

Being a gymnast, she was in very good shape

But once in a while they had to stop for a break

To warm their hands on a cup of java

As he helped her put on her balaclava

It’d been forty-two years he had heard

But the man’s body was quite well preserved

From the permanent cold, he was

Forever young, forever beautiful

Forever young, forever beautiful

Forever young

On the way down, her cheeks were redder

Redder than the reddest apple

They set up their tent at base camp

Crawled into their sleeping bags

And she lit a candle

She said

You should have seen him in his summer clothes

The short pants that gently exposed

His calves that spoke of hidden treasures

Golden ratios, unknown pleasures

She told him how their bodies had together bloomed

The first time they did it in her student room

How she had got on top of him

So she could see everything

Reflecting the light off the moon

Forever young, forever beautiful

Forever young, forever beautiful

Forever young