Put On Your Dancing Shoes
let’s go beachcombing at midnight
we’ll get a nice moontan, although slight
and maybe we’ll find a stray camellia
straight from the shores of sunny Astraylia
I had a friend, an adroit dreamer
he hung himself with a guitar string
and then I met you, my avid diva
so put on your shoes, your dancing shoes
and let’s dance swing while beachcombing
I’m too flummoxed and too transfixed
from what was there among the debris
a message in the bottle – for us
and I’m under your spell now, bewitched
since you’re a virgin child of the sea
and together we can truly be free
dancing the swing every night with no fuss
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