O you pretty people
dancing
so wildly,
so seductively,
very drunkenly
under those artificial
strobe lights
in the city
that wants to ***** you
in that brand new
sports car
and g-string.

O you pretty people come
outside to the country
and drum circle
with us
in the labyrinth
to the cosmic-beat
under the real moonlight
in your bare feet
and ankle flowers.

O you pretty people,
do you hear the copper bells ring...
can you sing me a true love-tune?