On the day she turned to dust she asked the wind to be her friend and it picked her up and ran her through the fingers of it's hands and it poured her into pockets and whispered to hold on and before the church had emptied they were gone..
Let's dance the next dance like it's the last dance, like we know that it's our last chance to dance and when the band begin to slow hold me like smoke, there is a flame inside my soul burning the dancefloor, let's dance before it goes...