dancing!!! (animasque in vulnere ponunt)

i've got seven goals in a period, see, and you're still not taking me seriously. i can go through the motions same as anybody else. sure, the uniform's changed, but the smirk is just the same. don't put me on the shelf. i can hold my hand to my heart same as anybody else. sure, the rules have changed, but the game is the same. don't radio for help. i've got my colours on my sleeve and a number on my chest. maybe we can make believe that this is all for the best, and maybe we can get out of this alive. the odds are high but i'm dying to survive. and the edge or dead centre, but couldn't it both? i'll pour my insecurities into a cup and make a toast. lose myself to the dance floor, as i compete with the dead to see who can romance more. i'll get over myself eventually. until then content yourself with watching me bleed. until then, content yourself with watching me be me.