I am worn out
Becoming predictable;
as a result of your manners
I seem perfectly sane
and too dull to entertain

The cold is stealing joy
and the warmth
that lies in movement
sweat, and lust
cannot keep me warm

Though I may pretend
for a short while
For 4 whole minutes
I cannot keep a smile


I truly am exhausted
crawling in sorrow
Too scared to take a chance
Too tired to dance

and to my conclusion;
I cannot keep up my coordination
with this frightful confusion
the painful aggravation
and the tearing hesitation

and at last;
How could I perform a duet
When I am too old to see the beauty
that love once held?

Too lazy for a romance
That is why
I cannot dance