There is a picture in my head of a dancer
Floating all around the room
Eyes closed, hands in the air
You can almost feel this beautiful rose bloom.
She isn’t hearing any of the talking
As the people gather to see
This miraculous woman that seems to be dancing
Everyone’s enjoyment for free.
She doesn’t feel any of the pain anymore
Just dances her heart out instead
Not for the people that want to be alive
But for those who want to be dead.
Once she was among the lost and broken
Now she can hear the music in her head
Counts the beats, and moves her feet
Then gently falls asleep in her bed.
The dancer no longer cares about storms
The people that tried to fuck up her life
Her only concern is her love and her dance
The petty people can worry of strife.