Dave the rave waz settin up
Pulling vinals from a black Udog bag
As he scanned the empty hall
The boss pulled up in his cherry red jag
Walking slowly with a smoking cigar
He ran his fingers along the bar
His cry traveled like a shockwave
'They better dance for you Dave'
The club was filling up quick
Looked like Dave needed a medic
All the lights were on and the strobe was flashing
A few people drinking or laughing but nobody dancing
He drew a deep breath his eyes gleaming
Then played that song, 'dancing on the ceiling'
All the girls jumped and started dancing
And the boss glanced over and wasn't whining
Everyone danced all night but mostly on the floor
With big happy smiles they shouted for more
Then Dave played, 'when the going gets tough the tough get going
At the end of the night all you could hear Dave Dave everyone glowing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem