It’s the last dance as the band begins to fade,
and the groom and bride have left long ago,
while streamers and confetti litter the floor,
and you and I spin around the dance floor.
The disco ball is spinning slowly flashing lights,
and Charlie’s eating another piece of cake,
while Janice takes off her heels and rests her feet,
we are all a little dead on our feet.
But I’ll spin you in your fancy dress,
and my bow tie is hanging around my neck,
while Brian’s cumberbund is hanging on a chair,
Brian’s resting in that open chair.
The band’s song is tired and losing steam,
but I’ll hold you a little longer more,
because this night is just for the two of us,
so let’s just dance, the two of us.
Last dances, last rites, last kisses, last moments… There’s so many last things. I kept having Frank Sinatra’s The Last Dance playing in my head today. One of my favorite songs. So many ideas, but nothing took off quite so much as thinking about a last dance of the night, when the band is playing a tired song. You know the kind. They are in movies and shows and they make the dancing seem tired and such, but I always find it kind of funny. And women are taking off their shoes because their feet are tired. Guys look sexy in their tux, with the jacket off and a bow tie losened and hanging around their neck. Women’s hair falling. It’s kind of cool.