A friend of mine, who has a very well-developed ability to describe people, once said of someone, "She danced like she was recently divorced." That sentence could mean dozens of things and, without knowing exactly what the intended meaning might have been, I found myself drawn to the possibilities of it.
And so, here is "Dancing at Weddings," a song that moves around like people on the dance floor.
Lyrics
Dancing at Weddings
She danced like she was newly divorced
With the grip of a seasoned acrobat
When I asked if she wanted a chardonnay
She said she would have none of that
Me, with the grace of a two-by-four
She, being classically trained
So when the music ended
I doubted I’d see her again
This is how I dance at weddings
With the sister of the mother of the bride
Saying how beautiful everyone looks
While quietly dying inside
Standing against the wall
Watching the laughter and dance
Part of me feeling I needed to leave
And part wanting just one more chance
Then the woman who was no longer married
Was suddenly there by my side
It seems that her friends had left her
And she found herself needing a ride
This is how I dance at weddings
With the sister of the mother of the bride
Saying how beautiful everyone looks
While quietly dying inside
She said that she wanted a coffee
But at that time of night who knew why?
Then me with my decaf and her with her latte
She quietly started to cry
“I always cry at weddings,”
She said, as she gazed into space
But this time something was different
With a feeling she couldn’t quite place
She was taken by waves of dark sorrow
When she watched them reciting their vows
Comparing their obvious joyfulness
To how she was feeling right now
BREAK
I said that I’d never been married
And that weddings were foreign to me
But I told her that I could imagine
How difficult this one must be
She reached out and touched my hand
And sighed from the weight of it all
Then just like that I was some crown prince
And she was the belle of the ball
And this is how I dance at weddings
With the sister of the mother of the bride
Saying how beautiful everyone looks
While quietly dying inside
We sat on the edge of the moment
Then she said that she couldn’t go home
There we were, me and her
Two souls who could not be alone
I’m not going to call it romantic
In fact, it was kind of a blur
But at that instant, she needed me
And I guess that I needed her
And this is how I dance at weddings
With the sister of the mother of the bride
Saying how beautiful everyone looks
While quietly dying inside
And this is how we dance at weddings
With stories that spin ‘round the floor
Smiling at people we hardly know
Yet hoping for just one dance more
We’re all hoping for just one dance more
© Gary Poole 2021
(with inspiration from Rob McDiarmid)