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Description
i’ll dance about the wooden floor
all my dancers in a tight row
we don’t need tutus or music
just our given Metronome
candlelight flickering on our Footwork
spinning until we can spin no more
i’ll fall and land with perfect grace
a bruise about my pretty face
follow me
let the pied piper sing
we will prance and skip
to our very own King
who may it be?
i’d never know
i’ll let you in when the Music has slowed
let the Rhythm play
in spontaneous beats and ways
i’ll never feel
the turning of clockwork
just Me and my sock-clad Footwork