She was a background dancer,
In his favorite number.
A pretty brunette girl,
Who filled up space,
Behind his solo.

He was a boy with some confidence,
A handsome face with strong legs.
He leaped and twirled across the stage,
Voice echoing off the walls.
Man, he was great.

Opening night, October 3rd.
She dressed up in her sequins.
He slicked his hair back,
And practiced his scales.
Now they're on,
And they're ready.

He walks his way across the stage,
And taps around the female dancers,
The choreographer chose.
There is one girl he spins,
With long brown hair tied up with ribbons.
The spotlights makes her eyes sparkle,
When she looks at him.

He reaches center stage.
He moves, he sings, he's amazing.
His focus is piercing the audience,
But in the back of his mind,
He thinks about the girl behind him.

Her costume shown the brightest.
Her feet tapped the loudest.
Her smile was the widest.
Why didn't he notice her before?

Who is that boy who sings,
In 42nd street?
He's beautiful.

After the show they bowed, they left.
She put on her jeans,
And let her hair down.
He left his suit and tie,
On the back of a chair.

Out in the parking lot,
She saw his sweet face,
Smiling at her from inside.
He did an 8 count from his dance.
She did it too.
He clicked down the stairs,
To her car,
And they danced.
They danced together,
Twirling and tapping,
Jumping and laughing.

Opening night, December 2nd.
Folks, we have a double act tonight