Matchstick and Men

Smoke me out and cancer I remember when I was your stick thin, pretty grin, dimple in the chin --nice dancer And your navel, the bucket of my quench, catches the spins of your call and my answer And when your hand grabs elbows and I laugh and spin at the ribboning of my temples I know this is the stop You see, I boom for you and you just pop So I snap back turn and swing You're the pendulum of my happening You're my lay down, stay down call and no answer So I ricochet, piqué, split and go faster but I find you, the keeper of my feet The loud raping the meek Sudden master Do you remember me? Stick thin. Life's grim. What's a dancer?