The pretty things were all dancing.

And we were looking for a sign.

Dexter danced and shook it off.

Like a Madman on the shine.

We were drinking at the Cascade.

At Leo’s five and dime.

Nothing much was making sense.

Until The Villians were the crime.

It came and went so quickly.

Like a fever at high pitch.

The Era went, and no one saw.

In silent darkness came the switch.

No one gave us warning.

Or at least not one that I heard.

And all the pretty things were dancing.

And the lines were kinda blurred.