Comments about Storm Paul
The Ballad Of Insanity
The dance floor is calling my name
A dream of life in this cabaret masquerade.
What is behind the mask knows nothing more
Then what is brought onto the dance floor.
Walking across the busy floor,
Unknowing if the lady behind the mask is a whore.
Events set into motion as our beaks meet,
Crystal blue eyes lock with mine as they greet.
A waltz to the song that the jazz group plays,
Step after step, the crowd disappeared in a haze.
It is only us on the dance floor of the masquerade,
Smiling while watching the darkness...