Tekstovi: Robert Earl Keen. No Kinda Dancer.

The first of the month brings back the notion
Of a big round white dance hall and a cool summer night
Red cherry faces set black shoes in motion
To the oom pa pa rhythm of a German delight

And I tried hard to tell you I was no kinda dancer
Took my hand to prove I was wrong
You guided me gently though I thought I could never
We were dancing together at the end of the song

A taught little bald man like a German war hero
With buxom matrons to a quick John Paul Jones
Drapes of crepe paper a ball made of mirrors
Cast shiny reflections on a brass slide trombone

And I tried hard to tell you I was no kinda dancer
Took my hand to prove I was wrong
You guided me gently though I thought I could never
We were dancing together at the end of the song

A man was still dancing with his phantom partner
Though the band had quit playing at the evening's end
And it made me feel lucky that I had a partner
To teach me the dance steps and come back again

And I tried hard to tell you I was no kinda dancer
Took my hand to prove I was wrong
You guided me gently though I thought I could never
We were dancing together at the end of the song

And I tried hard to tell you
Took my hand to prove I was wrong
You guided me gently though I thought I could never
We were dancing together at the end of the song