
Feet, don’t fail me tonight,
Each step a stumble, each breath a quake,
Within these halls, I stand contrite.
Here drifts the air, a perfumed invite;
My painted poise, the prize at stake,
Feet, don’t fail me tonight.
Until the sun spills gold and light,
Half lost in dreams, half still awake,
Within these halls, I stand contrite.
Heels are high, red lips burn bright;
Longing and danger dance with fate,
Feet, don’t fail me tonight.
The dream dissolves before the plight,
And every wall begins to shake,
Within these halls, I stand contrite.
When dawn steals all borrowed delight,
Only blush remains; my mask I forsake,
Feet, don’t fail me tonight,
Within these halls, I stand contrite.
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