Do you still keep paper flowers
In the bottom drawer with your Belgian lace,
Taking them out every year
To watch the colours fade away?

Do you still believe in fairy tales,
In battlements of shiny castles,
Safe from the dragons
That lie beneath the hill?

Are you still [bad word] princess
Rescued by a gipsy dancer
To anyone who'll listen?
Is that a story you still tell?

You live a life of fantasy,
Your diary - romantic fiction.
Can't you see it's hard for me,
Can you see what I'm trying to say?

It's a gentleman's excuse me,
So I'll take one step to the side.
Can you get it inside your head?
I'm tired of dancing.

For every one step forward
I'm taking two steps back.
Can you get it inside your head?
I'm tired of dancing.

I know you still like old fashioned waltzes,
Your reflection in the mirror that you flirt with
As you glide across the floor.
But if I told you the music's over
Would you want to hear
That your dance card is empty,
That there's no-one really there?

Do you still believe in Santa Claus,
That there's a millionaire looking for your front door
With the key to a life
That you'd never understand?

And all I have to offer
Is the love I have, it's freely given.
You'll see its value
When you see what I've tried to say.

It's a gentleman's excuse me
So I'll take one step to the side.
Can you get it inside your head?
I'm tired of dancing.

For every one step forward
I'm taking two steps back.
Can you get it inside your head
That from this one step forward
There's no turning back?
Can you get it inside your head
I'm tired of dancing.
We've finished dancing...