Music softens, as do the lights
above. The last dance is taking shape,
now's the time to speak our words.
I'm not sure if we'll move apart, or if tonight
will carry us over; I don't know if you're meant
for me, or if I'm meant to find another.
Your voice is quick to quiver, while your head
is slow to nod. As I take you by the hand,
I wonder what's left to come.
And so the last dance is taking shape;
your youth tries to run away.
The school doors are about to open wide
to a summer filled with change.
I know I said I loved you,
you knew how feelings could change.
It was the best and worst dance
of all my school gym days.
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