I danced a Tarantella
With a different sorta fella;
Distinct with burning eyes and burning soul
Scarce had I to test him than did
A Gavotte best him, and that’s when my spirit took a stomach-turning roll
I danced with all the richest
Each with his little love-nest;
they tried to pull me straight from floor to bed
But the floor they decorate,
and to set the record straight,
I only broke their hearts,
and not their heads.
I came here to dance!
And to twirl to Gypsy fiddle
But somewhere in the middle,
I did lose much of my way
They say I left a hundred bodies
But to be fair, all the rum toddies
Were poisoned by my sister, not myself
There’s no need now for locks;
I’ll return to my music box,
and like my sister,
I’ll be quiet
on my shelf.
