To say, with a slant how easily the ink flows
In time with Bodhrán, in tune with trembled lute
To kick step
Back on to the straight and varied
No room here for lust or love
No courtship of free-flowing
Nor frozen memories
At that the song ends
Its partner takes to the dance floor
Slow steps
Lithesome glides
Sunlight of shadow
Her voice enters; how not to give
Having, as you have, given all before
