Dance for me like you're not working-
smiling eyes, look deep in my soul.
The beat bumps irrelevant nothings
while I let you take control.

Hips speaking more than words,
and I sit and contemplate the show.
Although I'm paying, it's not faking
to say I don't truly know:

Was this moment real - and does it matter,
if I'm still happy when I get home?