A strange and potent rapture
Held their eyes upon the ice
As the dancers pranced on razor blades
Each mastered movement seemed so trite

They whirled and leapt without misstep
Beneath a guise of fearlessness
For they knew they scrutinizing board
Could acclaim or else condemn

The crowd was hung on tenterhooks
A crescendo rose amongst the horns
The ovation moment soon at hand
Save just the ****** unperformed

Raving sounds crashed from the pit
As he tossed her into pirouette
A faltered glance, a clumsy catch
They toppled down as good as dead