Grandma Tap Dance—watch her go
Across the stage she shuffles
She’s wearing ancient tap shoes
And a faded dress with ruffles.
She’s shuffling but she doesn't hear
The music's steady beat.
She only knows the music means
She’s s’posed to tap her feet.
She goes in circles aimlessly
And claps her castanets.
She sometimes knows that she’s on stage
But sometimes she forgets.
And when she’s done, the host says
“Ninety-one! Still dancing! Gee!
I think that’s great!
Put money in the hat if you agree.”
Clink, clink—here come the pity coins
“She’s ancient, after all.”
“She didn’t really dance, but hey
At least she didn’t fall.”
And Grandma Tap Dance, now offstage
Is in a chair, asleep
Her body sags, she looks like
Skin and ruffles in a heap.
Her daughter takes the coin hat
And she lets her mother snooze
Ten bucks, twelve cents—not terrible.
She leaves to buy some booze.
And Grandma Tap Dance dreams she’s young
She’s barely come of age
She’s dancing oh-so-beautifully
Across a lighted stage.
She leaps and shimmies, spins and slides
Until the curtain closes
The crowd goes wild; the stage is filled
With heaps and heaps of roses.
While Grandma dreams, the daughter drinks
‘Til drinks have drowned her sorrow
“C’mon, Mom, let’s go home,” she slurs
“You’ll dance again tomorrow.”
But Grandma won’t be woken up
For her, the crowd still cheers
The lights! The stage! The roses!
Oh, how real it all appears!
“Wake up, Mom!”—Grandma blinks her eyes
Where is she? How? And why?
Her daughter takes her home
And lets her have a slice of pie.
Across the stage she shuffles
She’s wearing ancient tap shoes
And a faded dress with ruffles.
She’s shuffling but she doesn't hear
The music's steady beat.
She only knows the music means
She’s s’posed to tap her feet.
She goes in circles aimlessly
And claps her castanets.
She sometimes knows that she’s on stage
But sometimes she forgets.
And when she’s done, the host says
“Ninety-one! Still dancing! Gee!
I think that’s great!
Put money in the hat if you agree.”
Clink, clink—here come the pity coins
“She’s ancient, after all.”
“She didn’t really dance, but hey
At least she didn’t fall.”
And Grandma Tap Dance, now offstage
Is in a chair, asleep
Her body sags, she looks like
Skin and ruffles in a heap.
Her daughter takes the coin hat
And she lets her mother snooze
Ten bucks, twelve cents—not terrible.
She leaves to buy some booze.
And Grandma Tap Dance dreams she’s young
She’s barely come of age
She’s dancing oh-so-beautifully
Across a lighted stage.
She leaps and shimmies, spins and slides
Until the curtain closes
The crowd goes wild; the stage is filled
With heaps and heaps of roses.
While Grandma dreams, the daughter drinks
‘Til drinks have drowned her sorrow
“C’mon, Mom, let’s go home,” she slurs
“You’ll dance again tomorrow.”
But Grandma won’t be woken up
For her, the crowd still cheers
The lights! The stage! The roses!
Oh, how real it all appears!
“Wake up, Mom!”—Grandma blinks her eyes
Where is she? How? And why?
Her daughter takes her home
And lets her have a slice of pie.
