It was a very clumsy dance
On that crisp summer night
As if it were all a trance
A mindless beholding sight

The Blue Danube plays
As the hand becomes a rod
And the minutes become like days
Praying to an unfeeling god

Why? It was thine fault
Too much is unjust
To be in closed bolt
Thou has lost trust

The walls call out
“A friend, I am a friend
Come and let us bout
That this may end.”

The clumsy dance of long ago
Is a memory still living
Still no one may know
How, with the body, there is much learning.

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