I hand me things like naked
In a time of Nazi-France
When no one said I'd make it
To the Carnival of Dance
But there I was, regardless
In lust or luster or
The once and always clothes-less
And the ever-wanting-more
"More this! More that!
"More everything for me!"
The never skinny, ever-fat
Fool's errantry of greed
Is something more than lacking
Friend, I tell you this because
I've heard you back there snacking
On a thing called powdered love
And though you may believe it
Will outside of Nazi-France
Bring you luck and fancy shit
You'll never learn to dance
So shed your thoughts of Nazi-rich
Enticements and your pants
And walk the leading road which
Finds the Carnival of Dance
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