Ribbons from your dancing shoes

in shreds and threads and feeling used

are hanging up our yesterdays

Down the street, the empty dance halls

due to empty circumstance

all seem to be closed down today

And through the silence



I hear the word for love

I hear the word for death

But I don't hear any answer

While death can talk of 'la mort'

and love can whisper 'l'amour'

the floor has lost its dancers



Take your partner by the hand

and dance the ghost of a sarabande

Moving like a miracle

Shoe to shoe and cheek to cheek

Every day of every week

step by step by century

Through the silence