Enjoy the madness, its Mortemer's dance!
Swishing and turning its not wishy-washy,
Slashing and cutting the shapes! Oh lord the shapes!
Slicing and spinning then boom! Red confetti.
Look at him go in his marvelous trance!
Spinning and cutting the dance spins in circles as the audience cries 'now do the slip and slide!'
So he slides in real slow now he's in his mojo
He's feeling himself as he's breaking it down.
Its him and himself in his spotlight lit solo,
A pool of composure for his one final flourish;
A swish and a slit, moves never seen before.
The big grand finale and the crowd goes bananas!
There's roses on roses, they pile on the stage!
Mortemer's touched by such lovely affection from a crowd of individuals with no connection.
He'll lie on the stage and soak up the praise.
His roses smell sweet, and his roses are plenty.