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 rhthm of a German delight
And I tried hard to tell you I was no kinda dancer
Take 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 ol' 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
Take 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
The man was still dancing with his phantom partner
Though the band had quit playing at the evening’s end
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
Take 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
Take 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