sexta-feira, setembro 26, 2008

Donce! Donce! Donce!

Having troubles telling how I feel
But I can dance, dance, dance
Couldn't possibly tell you how I mean
But I can dance, dance, dance
So when I trip on my feet
Look at the beat
The words are, written in the sand
When I'm shaking my hips
Look for the swing
The words are, written in the air

Dance
I was a dancer all along
Dance, dance, dance
Words can never make up for what you do

Easy conversations, there's no such thing
No I'm shy, shy, shy
My hips they lie 'cause in reality I'm shy, shy, shy
But when I trip on my feet
Look at the ground
The words are, written in the dust
When I'm shaking my hips
Look for the swing
The words are written in the air

Dance
I was a dancer all along
Dance, dance, dance
Words can never make up for what you do
Dance, dance, dance

PONTO
(a.k.a. tenho dito)

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