relishing the cudly hands of a drunken haze, you're slowy gyrating, waiting for that sweet feeling to vanish.
You smile back at the crowd, marvel at the lights, troubles a mile away, hoping it'll never end.
No sot fast Pied Piper, hold your wheels of steel, build it up for the undesired finish.
Surely the extras will leave the stage soon, but come on, give us another Disco Godsend.
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