No Kinda Dancer Kelly Willis & Bruce Robison

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The first of the month
Brings back the notion
Of a big round white dance hall
And a cool summer night
Red cherry faces set black shoes in motion
To the oom-pa-pa rhythm of a German delight

And I tried hard to tell you I was no kinda dancer
'Took my hand to prove I was wrong
You guided me gently
Though I thought I could never
We were dancing together at the end of the song

A taught little bald man
Like a German war hero
With buxom matron
Through a quick John Paul Jones
Drapes of crepe paper
A ball made of mirrors
Cast shiny reflections on a brass slide trombone

And I tried hard to tell you I was no kinda dancer
'Took my hand and proved I was wrong
You guided me gently
Though I thought I could never
We were dancing together at the end of the song