Will get out of our way Dance with me at Gatsby’s We’ll drink champagne, As moths dance on graves That no one cares or pays. Dance with me at Gatsby’s We’ll know better than to stay Awake with Wolfsheim and His men hungry just the same. Dance with me at Gatsby’s Because if nothing else our lives are short, Or worth nothing short of all that’s gone, But my outstretched arm is tired from so long Of ceaseless bearing towards a fruitless past. We hide behind a gray sky most of our lives, But tonight the sky lives in silver sprinkles spanning the breadth of all our dreams, And Since no one dances after the fall, Dance with me at Gatsby’s Before his lights go out.
