By Brenda Sutton

I'm a very good waltzer.  This song comes from the years I spent dancing in my bedroom all alone.  The tune is original but has a tiny snippet of "The Skater's Waltz" at the beginning and the end.

Silent, she sits on the edge of her chair,
Hears the first strains of the Viennese aire,
Looks at the men as they hem and they halt,
And prays, "Please let one of them ask me to waltz."

For there is the soul of a great dancing legend,
It's trapped in her body tonight,
Urging her on to escape from her stillness
To play with the rest in the light.

Couples around her all move to the floor,
Leaving her sitting alone by the door.
Caught in her eagerness, she sits and sways.
No one is tapping her shoulder today.

For years she has practiced alone in her room,
Dancing with ghosts to her favorite tunes,
Chatting and flirting in crinoline cream.
Oh, why can't reality be like her dreams?

For there is a sweet, faceless man in her memory
Taking her hand in his own,
Whirling her, swirling her all 'round the dance floor,
They're waltzing to pleasures unknown.

The music is slipping by; soon it will end,
Partners applaud and then dance off again.
Nobody sees at the end of the hall
The girl with closed eyes... the true belle of the ball.