Wouldn't it be grand
If all this rhymed
Played on a bandstand
On a late summer night
As sweethearts dance one last time
But we know the tune
It's shifting soon
Swing was changed for uniforms
And kisses for bayonettes
Wouldn't it be grand
If our rhymes found life again
We too dance
A perilous one indeed
Wondering if the pen is mightier than the sword
Or easier than choking on words
Isn't it grand
Poets still sing and writers still demand
Our furious dance
One last rhyme
For our time.