But the one I met today is sweet,

Like the purest honey, from the quaintest pot.

Perhaps they're beautiful, with inside rot.

But at least we got to meet.

Even if some friends are keepers, and some are not.

Yet cruel intentions, imagine I cannot,

When they're like warm rain in the summer's heat,

Like the purest honey, from the quaintest pot.

If one day I find that their temper is hot,

And their sugar-coated words are obsolete,

Because some friends are keepers, and some are not.

Then I'll leave their life, with neither regret nor mot,

Because I knew at least one version who was a treat,

Like the purest honey, from the quaintest pot.

So I hope that they're rich inside, like 10,000 baht,

And neither gold nor diamonds can compete.

Even though some friends are keepers, and some are not,

They are like the purest honey, from the quaintest pot.