Abuse in E Minor.

The door slams a cymbal, you plie inside,
With each pirouette you embelish your snide,
Such dagger-like teeth dress a sarcastic scowl,
And so starts our dancing. We kiss and I bow.

I'm counting the steps while you count my mistakes,
Your feet pound the floor and my eyes dress the quakes,
The maestro taps clefs to embelish the beat,
His hand on my face, I am swept from my feet.

This beautiful dance it corrodes at our spines,
My flat notes rebel against manuscript lines,
You're playing the matyr who dies for his art,
Then kicking and screaming, I die for your heart.

My solo arrives and I dance from my path,
I yell and I spit and you hiccup a laugh,
I finish exhausted, your muscles are tense,
Incredible pain for such little suspense.

And one with the waltz you then mumble me dead,
The whisky and uproar have gone to your head,
You're shaking the house while I dance on a scream,
My anger is making the silverwear gleam.
 
The final bar starts and I launch for the door,
Your hands through my hair while I curtsey the floor,
A crescendo sounds, and with one final pause,
The sirens lift me with a standing applause.

Lend me a man for a long and slow song,
For inside this ring I can only do wrong,
Not beauty, just punches with hopeless dismay,
And with this red tape, I do thee betray.

Until tomorrow, partner.