A trip down memory lane to the disco |
The Quiana Madonnas were all dressed for performing Me in my white suit while my shoes were platforming My hair in a white boys afro style cut Going out on the floor to shake my butt 2001 or Happy Landings it didn't matter to me Heaven, or Chauncey's maybe the local VIP Just get up and dance and talk some trash Bring plenty of money cause it's all about flash 24 inches of 18 karats hanging around my wet nape Big collared shirt half unbuttoned underneath of my cape A couple of snorts to make the mood right A few moments later I'm high as a kite Be it the Bee Gees, the Trammps or Ms. Donna Summers We'll be dancing and laughing avoiding the bummers Free love, free sex the world was our oyster Hangovers, regrets brought on by the roister Oh to the days when dancing was fun and was in style When we were young before we walked down the aisle A carefree evening before life became so serious The thought of my wifes' mood loomed so imperious Those were the days that have melted like snow So rather than dancing it's off to the doctor I go The mispent youth that vanished so quickly Has left me so old, so feeble, so sickly The only disco dancing I do anymore Is waiting in line at the restroom door Hoping and praying there's no accident Hoping and praying I haven't already went |