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Backstage with the modern dancers |
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She was stretching her arm, figuring the body |
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When they were breathing they were shouting |
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She was concentrating on her breathing |
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And didn't seem to mind as |
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I sat there on the couch, tuned my guitar |
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And played a few chords by closing |
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Storing my thoughts, getting ready to perform |
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With bare feet and painted faces, they took their places |
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And shivering legs beneath covered four gowns |
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No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, ooh |
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No, no, no, ooh, no, no, no, ooh, no, no, no, ooh |
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And now they're are on wooden floors, sweat from their pores |
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They're riding the mist, songs |
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I can sing by myself |
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Backstage with the modern dancers, the feeling |
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I like I do |
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I can feel them and |
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I can feel it, feel it, feel it |
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Backstage with the modern dancers |
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Getting ready to go on |
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She showed me her spin, they beautied from within |
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And all of these things are |
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I think they should be at least |
