Will it be today, I don’t know.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll go
I can feel her watching down on my every move.
I’m a puppet in her play, Will she give my character another day.
She smiles down on me and all I can do is smile back,
After all, what’s the point in frowning,
One day she’ll take her shot and hit the spot
Till then I’m dancing to her beat,
Just moving my feet, Fast enough to last enough to make something count.
It won’t be long till I come to the end of her song and take my last breath.
This is the dance of death
