She spins and she spins
to a rhythm that's steady
She rolls with the waves
that are now a part of her
Motion was always her thing,
she was a great dancer
Like open tubes in centrifuge,
her life flies out from her

Death gets a chance to waltz again

How lonely can it be
to lurk like a specter,
When no one can see you
and you fill all with terror?
Can anybody blame you
for taking dear Jenny?
If they lived your sad lot
would they have acted differently?

Death gets a chance to waltz again

Spring 1994