The Dance

Written by: elizabeth wesley

The man in Berlin loves to dance
By the mist of the soft evening moon;
He takes his time to step on the rhyme
But he never found the tune.
There's a street where nobody goes
Where sad echoes bounce off the walls;
Where shadows march to the drum of woes
And crawl fast down the lonely halls.

You know dear I want you, I do
I need to lie down with you soon;
When the leaves on the tree are just a few
Come to me when love howls a tune.
There's a slice torn out of the sky
Day is scented with lilies of snow;
And weary birds find it hard to fly
They are scattered with no where to go.

There's a music hall in Berlin
Where the notes play loud to reviews;
There's a bar where no one is talking
They're condemned to death by the blues.
When will they look at your picture
And see the lost lonely years?
Come hold me my darling and dance
To the music of fantastic tears.

I'll dance with you in Berlin
I'll be dressed in laughter’s disguise;
With red roses between my breasts
And my hand caressing your thighs.
I'll yield to your aura of beauty
And see what you've got chained to tomorrow;
It will never be just a duty
To love you without all my sorrow.



This needs a bit of explanation; it has to do with
the second world war, the echoes are the haunting
past that brought the war about, and the shadows
are soldiers involved in the war. The rest is about 
the elusive happiness that could not be found.   


For Chris Aechtner's contest