the fiddle goes fast
she dances among hillbillies
her cadence turning us into frenzied happy-go-lucky-s.
I love her bluegrass sounds,
Her twang, her common decency, her Americanisms.
We dance faster and faster, as she slings out her joyfulness.
Clipping, clopping, stamping without stomping
We are square dancing now, and the ladies are swinging.
In their matching dresses, their panties singing!
the fiddle goes faster...
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