She dances alone

She dances alone

In the glare of the swaying lights,

to the music’s heavy beat,

in the jungle of the dance floor,

flickering eyes and feverish feet,

she’s the centre of attraction,

long hair, short skirt in mounting heat,

eyed with envy by the girls,

eyed with longing by the men,

Susan, the splendour of the night,

dances alone.

But weekends come and weekends go,

late nights and lie-ins in a row,

and all those girls are married now,

and other men stand at the bar.

New dancers crowd the disco floor,

as paired-off couples leave the hall,

collect their coats at the entrance door,

and take out mortgages.

And Susan,

once the glory of the disco,

eyed with envy by the girls,

eyed with longing by the men,

dances alone.