This page was last updated on: December 29, 2012
MUSIC WAS WRITTEN IN 1971 BY FRANK MILLS.
NORMAN POLLACK WROTE THE LYRICS
TEN YEARS LATER.
You walk in the room and you're wearing a frown,
You reach for the shelf and cradle it down.
The Music Box Dancer, what does it prove?
Only that you need to see a statue that moves.
A tutu of satin, bordered with lace,
Slender lines, agile legs, a wonderland face.
Her beauty is balanced, an immovable pose,
Eternally destined to remain on her toes.
Music Box Dancer, she is only a toy,
Project upon her your dreams of wanting life's joy;
She's perched on her stand, and never will part,
A final gaze upon her, now the music will start.
You wind the doll up, it's nostalgic because,
You've been here before, so give one final pause.
To dream of the future, to reflect on the past,
Music Box Dancer start your whirling at last.
Music Box Dancer, do you think or believe,
She could step off her box if she wanted to leave?
So easy it is, twirl around with such grace,
Staying in her circle, she remains in one place.
Such a brief moment, a small time to spend,
The dancing will slow soon, the music will end;
In real life we're plastic, nature's unfair,
How can we breathe life, how can we share?
The knowledge and insights hidden in tombs,
We're all Music Box Dancers all alone in our rooms,
We sit on our shelves where objects reside,
We don't allow the music to get right inside.
Music Box Dancer's now completely alone,
No winder or no listener, because nobody's home;
How long before someone will re-wind the spring?
The room will now be witness; and silence can't sing.