Lips velvet rouge,

Glossy and full,

Sculpted in a permanent pout.

Oh, woe be he,

Crouched in his dark corner

Of the local pub,

Cigarette smoke forming a

Ladder to the skies.

Eyes painted shimmering gold,

But the stars in his eyes have died.

He cried them out long ago.

Tearless and alone

In a crowded room,

This jaded boy feels numb.

Everything he lived for is gone.

Once a pristine child, a starry-eyed dreamer,

Now an embittered, dejected soul.

A void fills his wretched heart.

And the music plays.

The beat, he knows it well.

And the words break open his brain,

And he cannot refrain

From dancing just a little inside.