Although you're only 17,
far too much of life you've seen, think of better the child.
Maybe if you only knew where your path was leading to,
you'd become less wild.
But I know it's vain trying to explain why there's
this insane music in your brain.
Dance, dance, dance, little lady,
youth is fleeting to the rhythm beating in your mind.
Dance, dance, dance, little lady, so obsessed with second best,
more best you'll ever find.
Time and tide and trouble, nev er, never wait,
let the call and bubble justify your fate.
Dance, dance, dance, little lady, dance, dance,
dance, little lady, leave tomorrow be hind.
When the saxophone gives a wicked moan,
Charleston, hey, hey, rhythm,
ball and wine.
Start dancing to the tune, the band's crooning,
for soon the night will be gone.
Start swaying like a reed without heeding the
speed that hurries you on.
Syncopate your nerves till your body curves,
pooping, scooping laughter from dead eyes.
An d when the lights are starting to gutter, dawn through the shutter,
shows you're living in a world of lies.
Dance, dance, dance, little lady,
youth is fleeting to the rhythm beating in your mind.
Dance, dance, dance, little lady,
so obsessed with second best, no rest you'll ever find.
Time and tide and trouble,
never, never wait.
Let the core bubble, justify your fate.
Dance, dance, dance, little lady, dance,
dance, dance, little lady.
Leave tomorrow be
hind.