To all of you, subjective critics,
And all of you, my dedicated "fans"
I tip my hat and decisively announce:
I wash myself from all my flaws;
I'd rather dance.
It's true, my dancing is mediocre,
And so they say, so is my pose,
But how else might I expose
My word to my lovely audience;
Or should I rather cry?
Now all my sweat and tears are drying,
Leaving behind a salty layer,
And how else might I transmit my prayer;
To please the crowd's all I intend,
So I would rather wash myself.
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