Dancing Hall
Standing at the window I watch with amazement
One dancer whips the air fiercely with her bottom
Another writes something in air with pointed fingers
Both seemed lost in non-existing planet of mystery
Standing at the window I watch more fun and fuss
Lone dancer charges like a bull as he bull-dances
At a corner a wigged girl has her chin in her palms
Both seemed to live in a world that loved them not
Standing at the window I examine my conscience
This world is a dancing hall each with hidden point
Every person with a fate that dogs and bites at will
A lonely creature man is in this crowded dancehall
Dance and sing in the hall to express hidden point
Though a public thing it’s where you do your thing
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