Let’s move off of the floor.

Baby, you’d be taking a chance,
if you ask me to have this dance.

Don’t let’s dance, yeah, don’t let’s dance.

I am a dismal flop, might stomp upon your shoe.
Legs in my pants don’t what to do.
So, nix dance. Let’s nix dance.

Oh, baby, if we hit the floor,
you won’t like that your feet get sore.

Don’t let’s dance, yeah, don’t let’s dance.

I am a dismal flop, might stomp the other shoe.
Legs in my pants always go askew.
So, nix dance. Let’s nix dance.

I’m a failure at this.

So, baby, don’t want to have shown
proof of this by broken foot bones.

Don’t let’s dance, yeah, don’t let’s dance.

Terpsichorean flop, I might stomp one, or two
feet…a bad plan to dance—you would rue.
So, nix dance. Let’s nix dance.

So, baby, let’s, instead, tonight
write parodies for amiright.

And we’ll scan the lines an’
when were are through with that, here’s what we’re gonna do:
Post what we wrote and then write anew.

And nix dance.
I’ll give thanks
for nixed dance.