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I've always seen the appeal in seeking the unreal; but the transient thrill leading to nil seemed not to me gentile. What little sincerity bared is toward a sentiment shared. A feeling much obliged - from decorum contrived. For when the masks fall away, feelings felt begin to sway. Ah, the clarity. O, the disparity. And yet your partner now is your partner still; 'till the song decrescendos with your will.

*Inspired by towns
There's an appeal in the unreal
In the transient thrill leading to nil

The transient thrill leading to nil has
The appeal of the unreal.

Behold the beatific tresses and dresses outlying
Low hanging chandeliers and lauding leers diffusing
Terrific conversation and caste demonstrations

What little sincerity bared is toward a sentiment shared
A feeling much obliged; from decorum contrived

Once the masks fall away, feelings begin to sway
Ah, the clarity. O, the disparity.
Your partner now is your partner still until the song decrescendos with your will.
So few dancers grow to know that
Propriety cannot stake what the heart intends to take


A lone path with minced wrath
Beings with me and ends with thee