She’s
cloaked in the color of darkness, sultry little black dress of death And with each threatening step, each tantalizing breath, she takes a little part of you. And yet you dance, two-stepping on a tightrope, lost in your intoxication, a drunken moving meditation, dodging flames as the world burns, she’s gotten a hold of you. And still you dance, because you know she cannot touch you can only have so much of you no stranger to chaos, are you? You love to play with fire so you dance. Dance until the storm becomes you. Dance until the flames engulf you. Dance until the waters drown you. So then maybe you can be free. You’re desperate to be free, so you dance a little quicker, swallow down your liquor, quickly quench your thirst, and then, in your lusty rebirth, she consumes you. Are you tired yet? Too bad. There’s more fun to be had, gird your loins and hold your stance, best get comfortable in your trance, there’s no escaping this game of chance, so if you want to live, then you’ve got to dance.
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