Don'T Sit
And, my dear,
It is cruel that a song must end so soon,
More when we've barely had a chance to dance
—Don't sit.
We will indulge in this last lyric
And dance to the last bit of symphony;
God did not bake this much music for us to mourn at its end
—We must dance.
Many before us and many before ours
Have wasted the last note, begging for more song,
But, dear, one is all we get,
And we will Tango it to the last breath.
When we can no longer hear the strings, the drums, the trumpets,
And there is nary a dance left in our feet,
We will have done what we must
—Be alive before we lay.
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