See him there, the dancing fool,
Nureyev in Adidas,
cabrioles the carriageway,
allegro on the overpass.

Dancing as the lights go down,
St Vitus on Commuter Row,
gliding by the gridlock line,
step and turn and quick quick slow.

Dancing to the death of summer,
Fred Astaire in rush hour hell,
tapping through the traffic jam,
disco, tango, tarantelle.

The fool keeps dancing,
Tony Manero on Yorkshire slab,
dancing like the last Saturday
night we’ll ever have.