Focus, now. There was a girl wearing
bright yellow, who danced
and danced
and danced
and danced.
She was a darling of the stars,
and of many, too many,
men.

Where is she now then?
I heard she was off somewhere else,
still dancing;
she had forgotten the stars. But
does it matter?

Sometimes, a dance
can be dangerous
but more beautiful
than a star.

Oh my dear, dear
dancing girl.
Spin, spin to the beat of the world!

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Once again, indentation screwed up. You might want to head down to my livejournal for the correct indentation.