We all have a sheet neath the weight at our feet.
It feels hammered by sin, loss or shame.
When a whisper’s soft wind lifts the waltz back again,
Our mountains do glide turn and spin.
Armies can't hold what the spirit sustains,
And mercy is stronger when a memory reigns.
But you don't get to choose the songs that you lose,
Cause the dance floor is more than just you.