I don’t dance particularly well.
A dance you might say, is my vision of hell.
I don’t dance on feet as light as air.
I dance like a beast, heavy from his lair.
When I have you my Beauty, held in my arms.
I feel like I’d dance like the prince with the charms.
When I have you my Beauty, between my sheets.
I’ll dance like the wind that’ll sweep you off your feet.
