Lyrics & Music: Maureen S. O'Brien
Insp: _The Last Dancer_, Daniel Keys Moran
On a crystal-black plain, flicker
twisted candle-flames of blue.
She's a Lord of House November,
and the dreams she sees are true.
And she Dances in the darkness
in a pillar of pure Flame,
And her Dancing cuts the darkness like a claim.
CH: Dancer in the darkness,
Living for the Light.
Moving like the morning, knows the Face of night.
Gifted with November -- taking us to spring.
I should Dance your story.
I can only sing.
She's a woman. She's a wonder.
She's befriended; she's alone.
She enjoys the art of Killing
and she loathes the death she's known.
She is forced to find a path untrod
for forty thousand years --
Little wonder that the Dancer treads her tears.
CH:
BRIDGE: In a city called Ascension
(It is empty as a tomb)
Stand before the Lord of Players
as she chooses her own doom.
On the one hand is the golden Flame whose heart is black & cold.
On the other is the nothingness one sickens to behold...
So she calls herself a dream of life,
and he armors her in Flame
And finally the Dancer's found her name.
Now she Dances in the darkness,
and she Dances through the land;
And her Dance is work and weapon
as she serves the Light's command.
And her emerald eyes are gleaming,
for as priest and judge of heart,
The Dancer turns her burns into her art.
CH:
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