Won't you come out tonight
and dance by the light of the moon?
The world of adoration is painted
with the flat, shiny colors of music.
It diffuses life--like a prism and sunlight
revealing and concealing appropriate
pieces of our hearts.
The metronome keeps a lively rhythm
as somewhere in our heads
a full dance orchestra plays,
like out of an old '40's movie.
The jukebox of poppycock plays old, old songs
in that refined sideshow manner.
Glamorous and touching,
our love glides across poetic floors
in search of truth.
Artifice and silver, the silver screen
won't shade all problems forever.
The luster of moonlight lasts
until the satellite has crossed paths
with the western horizon,
plunging the world into starlight,
else fading into the sun.
Dance only with me
when the moon is full, when romance
plays that lively music
somewhere in our heads.
Come on little baby, won't you come out tonight?
I promise not to keep you forever.