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This is a song for every girl who’s ever done the twirl
Or tip-tapped two-step in a skirt that crept the ankles
Tranquil in the night-club’s din, the other lights dim,
One left reflecting steps delecting as she sways and swirls.
& it’s a song, too, for every person who
steps outside to escape and takes to fields or treetops
in summer on a smoking train, or driving authumn rain
with nature’s breakbeat bridges interfering with the drops.

This is a song for just moving around
On dance floors or between front doors, that pause
Spent either twisting hips or hearing whispers lisping
Over night-time engine’s omnipresent sound.
& things stand still when movement happens, brains arranging complex patters
headlamp constellations weaving, in and out of time
illuminations that we make boiling into space,
traced across a landscape by a narrow glowing line.

& this is a song for, yes, even the clouds
Which wander lonely as Wordsworth, whirling around
That vague, o’erplayed horizon, rising soft above the speckled ground
Shadows cast down, sun’s frown bouncing off to show the silver lining.
& that low, slow, earth hugging mist which whistfully
(pathetically pastoral) kisses the tips of toes, ebbs and flows,
shows there’s room for fog in every tryst
loading up decodings when its mystery we can’t believe we can’t resist.

This is a song for every single one of the above
With love. Keep on the move, the outer or the inner groove.
Stop to make some stuff sometimes –
Beats, bobs, essays, plays, videos and rhymes-
& never say never, seldom say always
all these days are rushing by quicker than my eye can see
so while there’s air to bear our shout, we’ll settle in, then we’ll set out:
an excellent soundtrack, and just a little twee.

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